A Demon's Fate
by Annie Newton
Summary: When a letter from Henry calls Abe back to his dear friend, feelings blossom. But an old enemy lies in wait, ready to destroy the Hunters' new-found happiness. Book!verse/AU. Abery.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** A Demon's Fate

**Author:** Annie Newton

**Fandom:** Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (book!verse/AU)

**Genre:** Angst, Romance, Drama, Horror

**Summery:** When a letter from Henry calls Abe back to his old friend, feelings blossom. But an old enemy lies in wait, ready to destroy the Hunters' new found happiness.

**Pairing:** Abery, Crowley/Henry, a bit (a teenie, weenie little bit) of Crowley/Abraham, Henry/Edeva

**Rating:** NC-17 (overall) / PG-13 (chapter 1)

**Warnings:** Language, Violence, Gore and Blood-Play, Graphic M/M Sexual Content, Non-Con/Rape, Torture and Character Death

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter nor any characters contained within.

**Word Count:** 1,752

Chapter 1: Friend's Reunion

Limbs creaked, the dry bones of the trees rattling high above the lonely path. Winter was coming early this year, the chill turning the leafy vegetation to vibrant hues of rusty reds, bright yellows and burnt oranges. He knew it wouldn't be long before the branches would be barren.

As the autumn wind blew through the forest, fingers of cold found their way through the layers of his of clothing and he turned the collar up on his coat. He would have to find a way to insulate his attire against the oncoming season if his stay was to be longer than expected.

Halting his horse, he looked around him, ensuring that there was no other soul, living or otherwise, close by. Satisfied that he was alone, he signaled his mount off the trail and headed west, entering a small, neat valley.

The song of a trickling stream and his horse's padded footfalls were the only sounds that accompanied him as he wove his way through the dense wood. The setting sun was low over the edge of the hill, throwing the tress' elongated shadows into stark contrast against the golden rays of the waning light.

He kept the pace steady at a leisurely walk, plodding through the thick undergrowth. After a half mile the valley widened out into a grassy meadow and he knew he was close. It had been nearly five years since he'd last lain eyes on the area and he searched for a landmark to guide his way.

_There._ A large, split boulder sat partially obscuring a rutted deer trail, the moss growing thickly at its base. An unconscious grin split his face as he urged his big gelding onto the dirt path and up a curvy slope.

The cabin was just as he had remembered it. Sturdy and plain, the inhabitance was as common as they came, a trait he was sure its builder had intended from the start. Nothing set the home apart from the countless others in the region. Nothing, except perhaps for the gentleman within of course.

As he pulled up before cottage, the door opened and a darkly-speckled man stepped out, a relaxed smirk upon his pale lips. "Abraham," he spoke, his voice like rough silk, "it is nice to see you again, my friend."

Returning the open smile, Abraham Lincoln dismounted and moved to join his host under the porch's shady over-hang. "Likewise, Henry. Likewise."

The two shook hands.

oOo

"'Chasing you sir? What meant you by running!'"

Henry gave a rather undignified snort at this, his shoulders beginning to tremble with pent-up giggles.

"'Well, sir …I thought you a vampire' he said."

That did it. Unable to contain his laughter for another second, Henry burst into a loud guffaw that had him doubling over in his seat.

"So I say," Abe continued as he cocked his hip, plastering a dumbfounded expression upon his face in imitation of that long ago moment in time. "I say, 'Forgive me, sir, but…am I to understand that you are not a vampire?'"

Reeling from his laughter, Henry grasped at the arms of his chair. "Tell me it's not the truth!" he panted, fighting to regain his composure. "I believed I had taught you better than that!"

"Well," muttered Abe, shuffling his feet in mock embarrassment, "he did look like a vampire…" Retaking his seat, Abe sipped at the glass of water beside him. "He was all pale and gloomy."

"Oh, Abraham," said Henry as he sat back, crossing a leg and holding his knee. "You do not know how it pleases me to hear your voice, to see you again. I have missed our conversations."

Abe nodded, only a little sheepish in response to his friend's warmth. Truthfully, he was more relieved to see Henry acting so comfortably within such a short amount of time. The vampire had been a little too reserved all evening, igniting not only Abe's curiosity but his concern as well. Henry had never been one to be overly jovial, preferring instead the quiet reverie that marked most of his kind. However, there was a mighty difference between eternal patience and the somberness that his friend had been exhibiting throughout the night.

So Abe had worked hard at easing Henry's distress, telling stories and making jests as he had done when he was a boy. He was glad to see some of the tension ease from Henry's face and hear a return of the usual, calm tenor of his voice. He was proud too, for he felt that it was a testament to the strength of their friendship that he was able to lessen whatever stress was plaguing the vampire.

"I am delighted that life has, on the whole, been good to you these last few years," Henry continued, drawing Abe's attention back to the man before him. "You have grown into a fine man, Abraham. Physically strong, mentally confident and emotionally pleasant; these qualities will serve you well in the future."

Abe averted his gaze, the tips of his ears turning a revealing red. "Yes, well, I am afraid that I cannot take all of the credit. I had some help, along the way."

"Humble too," said Henry with a knowing smile. His eyes sparkled with something akin to pleasure, though Abe consented that it could have been a reflection of the flame within the oil lamps. "You have done well."

"Um… Thank you." Abe stood, fumbling with his glass. He really hated such praising attention for it mortified him to his core. But Henry's admiration, in his smooth tone made Abe's nerves quiver with an odd thrill. Taking a large swallow to satisfy his suddenly parched throat, he rubbed at his temples. "I'm afraid that I must retire, Henry. I've had a long journey and I am tired."

"Of course," Henry said as he gestured to the door off to their left. "There are extra blankets in the spare room but if you are still uncomfortable, you may prop the door open for the woodstove heat." He rose and extended his hand, "Again, it is good to have you here. I thank you, Abraham."

Taking hold of Henry's palm, Abe smiled, "A pleasure, Henry. Please, think nothing of it. We will talk in the morning?"

"Yes," affirmed Henry, a trace of the melancholy returning to his countenance. "Yes, the morning will suffice."

Abe pursed his lips slightly as he studied his friend. "Very well," he said at last. "Good night, Henry."

"Good night, Abraham."

With a stretch, Abe made his way to the spare bedroom, gave a final wave to Henry and closed the door.

oOo

It was dark, a blackness that was pitch and clung to him like tar. A blanket of heat smothered him, sticky and moist, as oppressive as the silence. Sight was not an option, and breathing an arduous luxury.

He backed up, away from the infinite void and into the Hands. He struggled, trying to pull free but the Hands were firm, unyielding, holding him steady. _No!_ Fighting, he kicked blindly and struck with his elbows, hitting nothing but empty air.

The Hands moved, exploring his chest before migrating to his stomach, tracing the ripped muscles there. He jerked violently, attempting to wrestle out of the Hands' grasp. _No! Please!_ His cries went unheeded and the Hands journeyed ever southward, caressing his firm buttocks and squeezing his manhood. _Stop!_

As a familiar weight pressed against his inner thigh, one of the Hands came around to cover his mouth. _Please, no!_

The world was no longer bare and black.

The world was now raw and red.

And Henry screamed.

oOo

Henry bolted upright, gasping for breath. His arms flailed and in his panic he upset the candle by his bedside. As the flame was snuffed out, darkness engulfed the room and Henry let loose an audible cry.

"Henry!"

Feet pounded to his door. _Abraham?_

"Henry!" Abe's anxiety was discernible despite the thick door. "Can you hear me?"

"Abraham…" Henry meant to speak clearly, strongly, but his constricted throat made it sound more like a tortured moan. Without another moment's hesitation, the door was flung wide and Abe hurried in, a look of utter fear on his features.

Henry quickly averted his face, his dignity making it so that he did not want to be seen in such a flustered condition. He hoped that Abe would think he was only trying to shield his eyes from the sputtering candle that he had rushed in with, that the fire was too painful for his vampire sight. Henry hoped.

"Henry?" Abe asked worriedly, looking around at the upset candle and books scattered about. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, Abraham," breathed Henry, a little too quickly. He cleared his throat, turning back to the young man, "I do apologize for disturbing you. I am fine, you may go now."

Abe knitted his eyebrows, staring at his friend in doubt. "Are you sure, Henry?"

"Yes," Henry sighed. "Yes I am quite sure."

"Is there anything that I can do?" An idea struck Abe and he eagerly stepped forward to offer support. "We can talk right now if that would hel-"

"I said I was fine, Abraham!" Henry shouted, standing up from the bed in a rage.

Eyes going wide, Abe's mouth gaped before he clenched his jaw shut. Gradually, his expression softened to false neutrality and he wordlessly retreated back to his original position.

It was a moment before Henry realized what he'd done, what exactly had happened. Whether it was a remnant of his fear, a push from his wounded pride or an instinctual flash of predatory anger, Henry's eyes had dilated fully and were as black as a moonless midnight.

Unclenching fists he had not realized he'd made, Henry drew a deep, calming breath and pointedly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were returned to their rich, dark cocoa tint and full of infinite shame. "I am sorry, Abraham. I deeply regret my actions just now."

Blinking, Abe slowly nodded, responding to the sorrow woven into Henry's words.

"I would like to rest, now." Henry sat back onto the edge of the bed. "In the morning, we will talk. I promise you."

Abe watched Henry, undecided. "Very well," he said finally, perhaps too calmly. Turning his back, Abe walked out of the vampire's bedroom, taking the flickering candle with him. "In the morning," he muttered as the door closed, leaving Henry engulfed within the cold dark.

oOo

Author's Note:

I'm permanently handicapped; I can't ever finish a story. That's what my professors say, at least. Or, that's what they did say, before I graduated. Well, I can't say that they're entirely wrong.

I've begun and abandoned about a couple dozen stories within the last year, and only published two, both of which are "stalled" at the current moment. So yeah, I'm a bit lazy or maybe too anal about my writing… One or the other.

But I really, really will try to finish this one, because this fandom has captured my heart and imagination more than any other in recent memory! And this pairing… Is absolute perfection!

Truthfully, this story was inspired by a number of things. As I searched for Abery fics, I kept seeing Henry being portrayed as all confident and strong and aggressive (in the bedroom). While I have absolutely no problem with that ('cause it's hot as hell!), I was beginning to get a little bored. So it is my goal in this story to bring a little vulnerability and shattered innocence to Henry and a bit of command and control to Abe, while still keeping them as much in character as possible.

I'm pulling from the films The War Boys and The Devil's Double, a couple of Disturbed songs and a couple of Within Temptation songs. And of course, from my own angst-controlled mind.

Let's see… I'm not too sure about the timeline, but this story is set right when Abe leaves home, at what…21? 22? I'll check, but if someone knows right off the top of their head, let me know, would you? So, this story is canon right up to that point but it will diverge from then on out. Just throw out everything from the book, for this will be an AU.

I do hope that you've enjoyed this enough to follow me on this journey. It'll be a bumpy ride but it will, I hope, also be a blast.

*wicked grin*

Buckle up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: A Demon's Fate**

**Author:** Annie Newton

**Fandom:** Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (book!verse/AU)

**Genre:** Angst, Romance, Drama, Horror

**Summery:** When a letter from Henry calls Abe back to his dear friend, feelings blossom. But an old enemy lies in wait, ready to destroy the Hunters' new found happiness.

**Pairing:** Abery, Crowley/Henry, a bit (a teenie, weenie little bit) of Crowley/Abraham, Henry/Edeva

**Rating:** NC-17 (overall) / G (Chapter 2)

**Warnings:** Language, Violence, Disturbing Images/Concepts, Gore and Blood-Play, Graphic M/M Sexual Content, Non-Con/Rape, Torture and Character Death

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter nor any characters or concepts contained within.

**Word Count:** 1,427 (3,179 so far)

**Chapter 2: A Warning**

Henry got no more sleep that night. He spent the duration atop his mattress, leaning against the headboard as he restlessly awaited the dawn. When it finally came, announcing its heat to his keen senses even underground, he breathed deeply and tried to ease his nerves. He slowly dressed in an airy, cotton blouse and then paused before the door in hesitation.

Abe was in the next room, he knew, for he could hear the young man's heartbeat through the thick wood. The rhythm of it was reassuringly steady, and it worked to calm his anxiety. He was uncertain how Abe would react to his demand, but however this meeting played out, Henry hoped, Henry prayed that Abe would realize his position and accept his teacher's command.

For in reality, there was no other choice.

As Henry entered the kitchen, Abe turned to look at him, tired disquiet written across his face. He was seated at the square table nearest to the woodstove, a cup of steaming tea warming his hands. With an odd pang of chagrin, Henry noticed that logs had been brought down and neatly stacked beside the heater, evidence that Abe had been up and moving for some time already.

Spying the kettle that Abe had used to make his drink sitting on the stove's warm-stone, Henry made for the cupboard and took out a second mug. He was aware of Abe's watchful eyes upon him as he poured the hot fluid into the ceramic cup, being careful not to slosh the tawny liquid against his white top. It didn't bother Henry that Abe was staring at him; it did bother Henry that Abe wasn't speaking.

Having taken his fill of the freshly prepared tea, Henry turned back to the table and took the chair opposite his friend. Swallowing a cautious sip, he glimpsed up from the swirling brew and into the fixed eyes of Abraham Lincoln. Abe was waiting, still and mute, for Henry to begin.

Grimacing slightly as the drink scalded the back of his throat, Henry set the mug down on the table, the clay producing a muffled clang against the smooth grain of the wood. "Again, I offer my sincerest apologies for last night's incident," Henry spoke softly, averting his eyes in mortification.

"It's forgiven," assured Abe with a dismissive shrug. "But I would very much like to know what it is that has you in such a state." Abe paused as the other man took a second, larger mouthful before staring, unseeing, into the room's murky corner. "Henry?"

"You must understand, Abraham," Henry began, still unable to meet Abe's gaze, "that I believe I am at my wits end."

Henry stopped then, shifting in his seat to face Abe full on. The expression of quiet despair that filled the vampire's eyes startled the young man to his core. He couldn't remember ever seeing such a look upon Henry's features and his mind raced as to what could be plaguing his dear friend. "Go on," Abe encouraged, his unease causing his brow to wrinkle.

Henry bore his eyes into Abe's_._ "Crowley has sent me a letter. He knows of you, Abraham. He knows of your hunting, and of our friendship. And he wants you to stop." Henry swallowed against a lump of bile rising traitorously in his throat. "He has warned me to stop you."

The silence hung like a cloud between the two men as they looked upon each other. Henry forced himself to maintain eye contact with his former pupil despite the ball of ice lodged in his gut. It was difficult, for Abe's look was one of blunt severity.

"Thomas Crowley?" asked Abe flatly. "Of Roanoke? The one who -"

"Who made me," Henry quickly affirmed. "Yes."

"He still lives?"

Though it was barely noticeable, Henry dipped his head in acknowledgment.

"And he has written you?"

"He has."

Abe drew a measured breath as he slowly devoured Henry's words. He leaned back into his chair, the wood creaking as it shifted under his weight. He fingered the lip of his mug as he thought, the warm porcelain dancing upon the tabletop with a musical ring. The sound brought a false joviality to the setting and Henry fought the urge to scowl at the inappropriateness of the noise.

"When did you receive the letter?" Abe at last broke the taut atmosphere.

Taken aback by that specific line of inquiry, Henry faltered for a moment before finally answering. "By now…I believe it has been close to six months."

"Six months?" Abe's gaze narrowed, his mouth forming a thin line. "You sat on this for six months, without informing me?"

Abe's voice rang with an air of accusation and Henry blanched at his friend's tone. "I believed you to be in no immediate danger and so I –"

"My safety during that interim, real or otherwise, is not of my concern, Henry," Abe interrupted, leaning forward, the glow from the lamp which sat flickering between them lighting his face in harsh clarity. The vision of anger smoldering within the young man's eyes caused Henry to flinch.

"What is of my concern," Abe continued, his words full of displeasure, "is not only the fact that you were contacted by your murderer, but were seemingly threatened by the devil, and yet you did not deem to notify me or request of my aid."

Henry gaped as he thought about his response. "I meant no disrespect, Abraham," he began, baffled by Abe's line of contention. "I had hoped to settle this without involving you. My only wish was to spare you from contending with my own troubles."

"'Spare me from your troubles?'" Slumping back into his chair, Abe's shoulders sagged and he frowned deeply at the man before him. "You speak as if my helping you would be a burden upon me. I am in disbelief that you could think that. I had assumed we were closer friends than that."

"I thought to protect you," Henry replied coolly, brows furrowed in warning.

"From a vampire?" Abe plowed on, ignoring Henry's obvious hint to bring a close to his tirade. "Remind me again of the number of names you have sent me over the last handful of years? And they are all dead."

"And must I remind you," snapped Henry, his patience wearing thin in light of Abe's continued challenging, "of how we became acquainted?" Henry was pleased at the look of embarrassment his reproach garnered him. "She would have killed you, Abraham. With ease. Not because she was strong but because you were inexperienced. And you would have been dead, gone from this world with no one being made aware of your passing or of the surrounding circumstances. If I had not been there…"

Henry trailed off. He took a great breath of air and let it out gradually, attempting to calm his outward demeanor. He looked upon his student, at his friend who, as a result of his scolding, had his head bowed in quiet disgrace. Truthfully, the conversation was not going the way Henry had intended, and he was more than a bit aggravated at the heated direction it had turned. Henry finished his drink, gauging how to best approach his next line of reasoning. When he spoke again, it was with a calm authority that testified to the insight the two-and-a-half centuries of life had bestowed on him.

"There are beings alive in this world that are dangerous and warrant great prudence, Abraham. And contrary to what you may believe, you are not invincible. The sixteen-or-so vampires that you have already slain were dangerous creatures, yes, but amount to nothing in comparison to the foes that I have struggled to keep you veiled from. Like your incompetence against that old woman so too is your ineffectiveness against the demons that I speak of.

Crowley is just such a fiend. He is not to be messed with; he is not to be defied. His power, his cruelty is not to be mistaken. He owns the capacity to destroy you, Abraham. And I do not possess the capability to prevent it."

Abe raised his head, alarm inked within his pupils. "What are you trying to say, Henry?" he murmured softly, fearful that he already understood the vampire's message.

Henry tightened his lips into a concentrated frown. "What I am saying, my friend," he stated, steadfast in his fervor to make Abe understand, "is that you must stop your hunting. You must bring an end to it at once, or you will die."

oOo

**(A Very, Very Long) Author's Note (and Timeline):** Thank you all so, so much for your words of support! You have no idea how much I appreciate it, guys :) It truly does help to have such whispers of encouragement push me forward!

This chapter kinda morphed into something other than I had originally imagined, and so, I'm not too sure about it. The argument between our boys was actually supposed to go a different direction and have a much softer tone. But as many writers know, sometimes the characters take control of the situation and all the writer can do in response is to hold on for the ride.

So because of that, I had to go back to the beginning of the chapter and rewrite much of it in order for it to all make sense. It was difficult, but I think I fixed it well enough for it flow…

But…I am embarrassed to admit that as I began the planning for this story, I had forgotten some of the book's timeline. Specifically, the points surrounding when Abe left home, his second trip to New Orleans, his stay in New Salem, and his discovery of Henry's abandoned cabin.

If you could see me right now, I'm face-palming…

Anyway, I've already said that this story is AU, so, I've decided that THIS is the official timeline for the purposes of this story: Abe leaves his family's Illinois home in March of 1831 at the age of 22. He does travel with his stepbrother and cousin down the Sangamon River to New Orleans and does accept the position at Offutt's general store. By this time, it's very late summer, and Abe receives his first letter from Henry in about 3 years. Disturbed by his friend's silence and the tone of the letter, he leaves New Salem for Henry's cabin back in Indiana (somewhere near Evansville).

And from there, this story commences! I hope that clears up any confusion.

Oh! I'm ecstatic to learn that others thought that Crowley's…uh, "relationship," with Henry was a bit…odd. My alarm bells chimed when he decided to kill Virginia (while young, yes, she would've grown into a woman in just a few years) in favor of Henry. It is very suggestive! Just one of many provocative points sprinkled throughout the book!

I mean, really, the book is fairly homoerotic if you look at it in just the right light! *Slash-Goggles, ACTIVATED!*

A point that they really, really tried to steer clear of in the movie :(

And that leads me to my last talking point, which is… I'm aware that, between , Tumblr and LiveJournal, I have attracted many interested readers that have not yet read the book. Wooo-Hoooooo! *I'm waving at you. Yes, you!* Welcome to the fandom you all! Glad that you're here and that the movie intrigued you enough to prompt you to delve into the small – but growing! – world of ALVH fanfiction! I do, though, encourage you all to buy a copy of the book because, really, the book was worlds better than the movie! I enjoyed the movie too, but they edited out all the best scenes and concepts of the book from the film and at the end of those two hours, as the credits began to roll, I was like…"Wha…!"

Trust me, you won't be disappointed ;)

Chapter 3 is already underway, so, until next time we meet!


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: A Demon's Fate**

**Author:** Annie Newton

**Fandom:** Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (book!verse/AU)

**Genre:** Angst, Romance, Drama, Horror

**Summery:** When a letter from Henry calls Abe back to his dear friend, feelings blossom. But an old enemy lies in wait, ready to destroy the Hunters' new found happiness.

**Pairing:** Abery, Crowley/Henry, a bit (a teenie, weenie little bit) of Crowley/Abraham, Henry/Edeva

**Rating:** NC-17 (overall) / G (Chapter 3)

**Warnings:** Language, Violence, Disturbing Images/Concepts, Gore and Blood-Play, Graphic M/M Sexual Content, Non-Con/Rape, Torture and Character Death

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter nor any characters or concepts contained within.

**Word Count:** 1,781 (4,960 so far)

**Chapter 3: "I Guess We Are Done"**

The two of them sat in the dark basement, frozen and mute within the heavy air. Henry gazed at the young hunter, who stared into the tepid liquid of his mug, an odd tranquility etched across his face. Though Henry's jaw was set with unresolved tension, he waited patiently for Abe to speak.

Finally, Abe moved. He arched his back in a tired stretch, a couple of loud pops sounding from the taut vertebra. "I'm going to go on a ride," he announced calmly, rising from the chair.

"Beg pardon?"

Abe headed in the direction of his room, "I'm going for a horseback ride."

Henry blinked, his lips parted in bewilderment, "Whatever for?"

"It looks to be a beautiful day," the man replied, his voice muffled by the layer of stone separating the two rooms. He reentered the kitchen sporting a mid-length, tweed overcoat and a serene smile. "You are welcome to accompany me, Henry."

The vampire watched, dumbfounded, as Abe made his way up the staircase, his steps giddy and light upon the worn timbers. He had anticipated and prepared for Abe to yell, or to cry, or even to brood for the rest of the day in angst-ridden silence in response to his order. Henry certainly had not expected the man to go for a horse ride.

But it wasn't just his announcement of action; it was Abe's buoyant tone that worked to baffle Henry so. He could detect not a hint of anger or resentment within the young man's words, nor any trace of concern for his predicament.

This last realization immensely troubled Henry.

Moving quickly in order to catch up with Abe, Henry loaded the stove, turning it down to make the wood burn longer. He laced up his leather mid-calf boots, grabbed his own jacket and bounded up the flight of steps leading to the false cabin above.

The white rays of the morning sun were already piercing through the gaps of the cabin walls, revealing ghostly swirls of dirt churning in the air. The day would only become brighter when the sun rose above the hilltops of the valley to throw even the darkest regions of the wood into illumination.

Henry reached a hand inside an inner pocket of his coat, pulling out his favorite pair of sunglasses. The black lenses immediately filtered out the stunning radiance, granting protection for the one part of his vampire body that would always remain vulnerable to the daylight. After fastening the buttons on the front of his coat, Henry stepped out into the dawn of the virgin day.

While the cottage was a bit on the shabby side, the stable in comparison was impressive. The structure stood behind the home, with a lush paddock nestled between the two. Henry had learned long ago that the health of a man's horse was crucial to his survival, and that importance only increased when in remote areas. Naturally understanding this, he had built the barn sturdily, enclosed on all sides to protect the animals from the oftentimes volatile weather.

As Henry looked on, Abe led his big bay through the stable door leading into the corral, tying the end of the rope to a fence post. A frown played at the corners of Henry's mouth, slight though it was, at the sight of the hunter's ax leaning upon the rail, placed alongside the horse's tack.

Leaning on the fence, Henry examined Abe as the man positioned the saddle pad behind the gelding's withers. "Abraham?"

"I am heading out for a ride, Henry," Abe answered, his voice betraying only undying tranquility. After he had hefted the saddle into place, he turned to face his friend, taking note of the displeased expression marring the vampire's striking features. Despite this, he grinned, working his famous innocence to its fullest, "Will you not join me? Come, it'll be fun!"

The brows above Henry's lenses formed an interesting curve, and Abe knew that if he could see the other man's eyes, exasperation would be burning bright within them. He could practically feel it emanating from the vampire as it was, his skin prickling from the glare. At length, Henry pushed off the rail and spun on his heel, marching into the barn.

Abe patted his horse's neck. _Good._ There were certain things that needed to be spoken between the two friends. But here was not the place and now was not the time. Perhaps, with a few miles of rugged cross-country under them, the atmosphere between the vampire and the man might prove a bit more amiable.

That was what Abe was counting on, anyway.

**oOo**

The day was indeed beautiful, as Abe had rightly predicted. Though the air was on the cool side, the warmth of the sun graced their backs with a comfortable caress as they rode through the woods. It was a picturesque autumn day, with the clouds like fresh cotton and the colorful leaves twirling from the trees as they danced their way to the earth.

They had begun their trek easily enough, following the narrow deer trails along gurgling creek beds and in-between valleys thick with brushy undergrowth. As the sun climbed higher in the sky and the horses warmed beneath them, they aimed for the crest of the highest hill, picking their way over mangled roots and loose stones as they wove up the steep grade.

By the time that they had reached the top, horses and riders alike were puffing from exertion and eager for a rest. Halting under the shelter of a shady grove, Abe removed his feet from the stirrups, stretching his long legs free from their stiffness as he wiggled in the saddle, attempting to find a comfortable position on the firm, thinly-padded frame. Henry came up alongside him, looking not the least bit sore from the past couple of hours spent on their morning jaunt.

"Beautiful," Abe remarked, as he watched the billowing clouds toss silhouettes across the rolling countryside before him.

Henry sniffed at the air, trying to enjoy the fragrance of the damp earth and the ancient trees. "Yes," he said, working hard to keep the detachment he felt out of his voice.

"I will not stop, Henry." The abruptness of the statement caused the vampire to grind his teeth in vexation. Abe turned his gaze upon his friend, the breeze toying with his dark, unruly hair. "I cannot stop. I made a promise."

Henry was silent for a long while, staring down into the shadowy gorge below them, purposefully keeping his face angled away from Abe. Though his expression was sour, his thoughts were even darker. "That is a mistake, Abraham."

"Perhaps," said Abe, pursing his lips in thought. "Though there would be much less risk to myself if you would care to help me."

Confused, Henry whipped his head around, at last looking to Abe.

"Two against one, Henry."

"Surely you are not considering hunting him?" Henry asked, voice pitched with dread in response to the sly smile that had imprinted itself onto the young man's mouth.

Abe's response was immediate and sure, "That is exactly what I'm considering."

Snarling, Henry jerked on the reins and dug at his mare with the heel of his boot until she had pivoted in front of Abe so that he could face the man directly. "Abraham, do not be stupid," Henry stated carefully, thankful his glasses hid the raw emotion that pooled within his deep irises. "Crowley cannot be defeated, not by me and certainly not by you. And he would not suffer such a reckless display of foolishness from a human boy. He would surely kill you."

"Then teach me how to better protect myself," countered Abe. "There must be more that you haven't yet shown me. If we start now, I can be ready if he comes for me."

Henry looked down at his own hands as they rested on the pommel, "You speak as if you are determined to meet him in confrontation." He was quiet for a long moment. Sensing his anxiety, his horse shifted beneath him, pawing at the dry leaves upon the ground. Henry raised his covered eyes to his former pupil, and said in a voice haunted with guilt, "I am afraid that I cannot help you, if that be your goal."

Now it was Abe's horse that moved nervously, snapping his long, feathery tail against the man's trousers. With a suppressed sigh, he narrowed his gaze in careful scrutiny. "The reason that you don't want to interfere with Crowley," Abe began, as evenly as he could muster, "is it because you are close with him?"

"Vampires have only one of two relationships with their maker," Henry said, painfully straight in the saddle. "They either like one another, or they do not. There is no in-between. No," he confirmed. "No, I do not have ties with him."

"Alright. Good. So…?"

Swallowing against his parched throat, Henry shook his head. "I am sorry, Abraham."

"Why do this then?" Abe asked, finally allowing his frustration to seep into his tone. "All of this? Why instruct me on how to kill vampires and send me on your missions if with the first sign of danger, you tell me to desist?"

Henry remained quiet, his mouth a sliver of a line.

"I do not understand." Abe blinked, trying to hide the rejection he felt from spreading over his cheeks. "Together we could put an end to him; together we could be great, unstoppable!"

Henry lowered his head, endeavoring to conceal a puckered frown.

Abe's horse snorted, shaking the reins in agitation. Biting his lower lip, Abe nodded once, hoping that Henry would attribute the rosiness on his face to the chill air. "Well," he breathed, "then I guess we are done. Good-bye Henry." He grimaced, unbelieving that he had uttered those words. "I do thank you, for all you have done."

Though it was said without malice, Abe's last statement hung in the air, the hidden message of the words palpable to vampire and young man alike. Abe sat up, finding the stirrups and taking up the leather reins in clammy hands. With a gentle press of his legs, he nudged his horse forward and rode passed Henry, aiming to begin his trek back down the side of the hill and away from Henry.

As Abe plodded by, the light of the noonday sun caught on the edge of his ax, reflecting brilliant silver against the dark glass of Henry's shades. The vampire waited until the hunter was gone before daring to uncurl his balled fists, the blood thick upon his claws from where they had knifed into his smooth palms.

**oOo**

**Author's Note:** First off, I do apologize for the long delay. I was "terminated" from my primary job and so have been splitting my time with job hunting (*snort* like there are any jobs available), writing this chapter and conducting research for upcoming chapters. My hope was that if I do some of that research now, it won't take me so long later.

Also, this chapter was supposed to be way longer. But as I was looking at it, I finally decided that I should cut it where I did and save the other stuff for later. I do kinda feel bad for posting what I call a "bridge" chapter (a scene that really only serves to "bridge" one scene to the next, and that doesn't have too much importance by itself), because I've made you all wait so long for an update… But have some faith in me; I think you'll enjoy the next couple of chapters. Also, this will be the last chapter, for a while, in which Abe and Henry are miffed at each other. I hate writing them angry. They'll cheer up soon, promise!

Not sure if anyone cares, but I've picked out horses for our guys! Abe's gelding is played by the 2009 Kentucky Derby winner, Mine That Bird. (That Derby was the most fun I've had in a loooong time!) Henry's mare is the beautiful Zenyatta, the Queen of Racing. I'll have pics of them up soon in my FanFiction profile.

I have got a couple of one-shot story ideas that I am absolutely DYING to write. One is just fluffy and set to a very popular song, and the other just racy, and dark. Very dark. I have not yet made up my mind if I'm going to deviate for a while and split my time writing those and this, or if I'm just going to continue with this for now. I guess I'm just beginning to get scared because I've realized just how massive Demon's Fate is going to be. Maybe I should have saved this for that November fanfic writing competition thing…

But I am determined to see this thing through. From beginning to end; from concept to completion. Never fear, my pretties :)

Well, gotta go. I do love you all, and I really, really appreciate you all reading this story!

Till next time we meet!


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: A Demon's Fate**

**Author:** Annie Newton

**Fandom:** Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (book!verse/AU)

**Genre:** Angst, Romance, Drama, Horror

**Summery:** When a letter from Henry calls Abe back to his dear friend, feelings blossom. But an old enemy lies in wait, ready to destroy the Hunters' new found happiness.

**Pairing:** Abery, Crowley/Henry, a bit (a teenie, weenie little bit) of Crowley/Abraham, Henry/Edeva

**Rating:** NC-17 (overall) / PG (Chapter 4)

**Warnings:** Language, Violence, Disturbing Images/Concepts, Gore and Blood-Play, Graphic M/M Sexual Content, Non-Con/Rape, Torture and Character Death

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter nor any characters or concepts contained within.

**Word Count:** 2,824 (7,784 so far)

**Chapter 4: Early September, 1587 – Roanoke Island, NC**

"We must leave!" Adams shouted. "We must leave, right this moment!"

Several in the crowd cheered the man, causing the homely farmer to beam with a pride that he rarely had the occasion to display. Calls such as, "Yes!" and "Before it is too late!" sounded from the depths of the gathering, striking through the incessant mumbling like musket fire.

Jack Barrington raised his hand, bringing a type of calm over the people. "And where would we go?"

"Back to England!" came a shrill voice, possibly belonging to the elderly Travers.

"Yes," agreed Adams. "Back to where it is safe!"

"You forget why we left England to begin with," Barrington countered. He looked out over the throng, meeting the hostile glares of the dissenters with cool authority. "The mother country is a place of persecution, not safety."

Perched atop a crate, Benjamin Goodwin retorted angrily, "I would rather be cowed than lose my scalp to a savage!"

"I understand your alarm about the natives," said John White, his deep baritone echoing around the square. "But I do not think that they will turn hostile towards us. It is not in their nature to do so."

"Tell that to George Howe, Governor."

White gritted his teeth. He threw a glance over his shoulder, espying the shape of the man who had just spoken outlined against the fiery backdrop of the setting sun. "You are not contributing helpfully, Crowley."

"Perhaps not," the doctor replied, causally stepping forward to take a place along the front row of the onlookers. "And I do apologize for talking out of turn. However, I feel that it is my civic duty to remind Your Honor that the peaceful natives that you speak of have already struck," he paused, far from ignorant of the rapt attention being paid him from the spectators, "and they have struck brutally."

Murmurs of assent swept through the crowd like a wave, the sight of Howe's broken form still fresh within the peoples' anxious minds. "I have to wonder, Governor," Thomas Crowley continued, adjusting the tinted glasses upon his nose, "just how much longer the natives will remain passive toward us. Especially so when you consider their lasting anger over the botched attack on their village early last month."

"Yes!" Goodwin cried as he stepped forward, placing himself in front of White, an angry haze making the whites of his eyes glow in the dimming light. "They are heathens! They will demand blood for blood!"

"And what would you have us do, Ben?" said Barrington, attempting to remain the voice of reason in a group that was fast becoming a mob.

Rounding on the fair-headed builder, Goodwin drew himself up as he continued his challenge, "Go back. Go back to England or make war with the savages, before they make war with us!"

Half of those gathered erupted into hollers for war, their own emotions turning murderous in light of self-preservation. Governor White allowed them their voice, a scowl upon his thin face as he contemplated his own words. A quick glance to Crowley showed the doctor with nothing but a serene countenance, a fact that sincerely grated on White. Crowley had picked at the scab, and now the wound bled freely.

"Quiet!" White raised his arms, waving for attention. "Please, quiet I say!" Gradually, the throng hushed, albeit reluctantly. White breathed, attempting to get fresh oxygen to his lungs, in spite of the oppressive humidity that moistened the air around them all. "I was appointed Governor by Sir Walter Raleigh himself before we set sail to this new world. We came for a single purpose: to colonize this land.

"We will not be returning to England with this aim unfulfilled! Nor," he paused as some shouted their objections. "Nor will we flame existing hostilities between our people and the natives any further by waging battle against them!"

"We will starve!"

"That is, unless we are attacked first!"

"Order! We will keep order here!" Sagging, White ran his fingers through his hair, the oily locks smearing some of the dirt embedded upon his palm. "You must not make enemies of the natives for it is from them that you will require assistance!"

Adams shushed those around him, confusion in his eyes. "What do you mean, 'us', Governor?"

"It is a fact that this colony is in real danger," thundered White, to a suddenly and chillingly silent crowd. "We are low on rations, much of the food having spoiled aboard ship. This drought that has seized upon this land has prevented our crops from taking root, denying us the wheat and the rye that we require to survive this country's winter.

"Because of this, because of our dire situation, I will at once set out for England and return with a proper supply of provisions for our people! Food, clothing, munitions and more manpower in order to erect this colony as it should be!"

"You will be leaving?" inquired Crowley in a gravelly purr. There was an odd look of barely contained amusement on his face, which White could not help from blanching at.

"Yes," White affirmed, reading the panic as it spread across the village like wildfire at his announcement. "Yes I will be leaving, but I will make haste to come back. In the meantime, it has become abundantly clear to me that in order to survive, we must mend our relations with the natives, for it is them that you will have to rely on for food until my return."

Jeers came from the back of the group, some of the more rebellious men challenging White's decision. "Barrington - !" White roared over the mean heckles, reminding himself to maintain a calm voice. "Barrington will take my place as governor! He will command this colony," he gestured Crowley, who had grown abruptly sullen, "and the good Dr. Crowley will assist Barrington in his governorship, being his second! I will leave detailed instructions for the two of them to abide by!

"This is my final word, and as Governor of the Colony of Roanoke, you are bound to adhere to it!" A nervous jitter settled upon the shoulders of the colonists, the gravity of their situation perhaps dawning in their minds. They would soon be without their appointed leader, alone in a strange world with ever dwindling supplies and with Satan's spawn watching from the cover of the tree line. Fear swam in their eyes, a terror that was barely contained by their sworn allegiance to the Crown. "This meeting is adjourned!"

**oOo**

The smell of cooking meat flavored the air of the cottage, temporarily banishing the mustiness that had settled into the old planks of wood and fresh skins of furs. The cabin's door, a thatched weave of twigs and bark, was propped open, allowing what little breeze existed in the thick autumn warmth to blow freely through the single room.

Breathing deeply of the clean wind, Edeva Sturges glanced out the door, hoping to catch sight of her husband walking up the dirt path on his way back from the governor's meeting. He was past due, and now the sun was sinking beneath the trees, the shadows lengthening to swallow the half of the encampment in which they lived. Though she tried to fight it, a ball of anxiety threatened to roll her stomach.

"I am afraid," said Eleanor, unconsciously echoing Edeva's own mood. Little Virginia squirmed in her mother's grip, crying out of hunger. "I knew this was a terrible idea! For a woman in my condition…" Bouncing her baby girl, Eleanor Dare paced the length of the room, her panic causing her voice to rise in pitch. "I should have resisted more. I should have refused to come!"

Picking up on her mother's distress, Virginia increased her wailing, causing fresh tears of despair from Eleanor's blue, red-rimmed eyes. "Oh Eleanor," Edeva crossed over to the young woman, offering to take the baby in hope to perhaps calm the child. Once in Edeva's arms, Virginia quieted, lessening her screams until they were gone altogether. Edeva held her close, cradling the girl to her own bosom.

Eleanor smiled through her tears, watching her neighbor with an instinctive envy as Edeva tended to Virginia. "You are good," she said, wiping the wetness from her freckled cheeks. "You will make a lovely mother some day, Edeva."

"Some day soon, I do hope." Edeva looked to her friend, seeing the unspoken question within her watery eyes. "My flow has begun for this month." Running a finger along Virginia's tiny head, Edeva grinned sadly at the small, pinched face. "Not yet," she said slowly.

"It will happen," assured Eleanor, peaceful once again. "Just keep trying."

"What will happen?"

Breathing a sigh of relief, Edeva turned to face her husband. "Henry! I was beginning to worry," she said, handing Virginia back to her mother. Chastely, she embraced the man before her, decorum keeping her from doing much else with her lover while in the daylight. "Nothing, Henry," Edeva answered, blushing slightly at being caught in such an intimate discussion with another female.

"Woman's talk, Mr. Sturges. It is nothing to concern yourself over."

Henry loosened his wife's grip, unwrapping Edeva's long, sun-colored arms from his neck and shoulders. "Mrs. Dare," he said, acknowledging the woman. Squeezing one of Edeva's delicate hands, Henry bowed slightly from the waist towards Eleanor. "I thank you for keeping my wife company during this difficult time."

"I do believe that Edeva helped me more than I her," responded Eleanor, with a quirk of gratitude on her lips. "I must be on my way home. Ananias will be returning now, I am sure."

Leaving her husband, Edeva gave a reassuring hug to her friend. "Be safe," she said. She placed a kiss on Virginia's forehead, "The both of you."

"Is Eleanor well?" asked Henry after the other woman was out of earshot.

Edeva watched from the open door as the new mother left with her baby, walking hurriedly through the throngs of mingling people to reach her family's lodge. She too knew the feelings of vulnerability that Eleanor bore. She experienced them as well.

"Edeva?"

"Yes, she is well." Facing Henry, Edeva flashed a cautious smile. "She was only expressing the trepidation that she suffers in light of the colony's situation; her worry over what is to be done." Her grin faltered, and she chewed her lower lip. "I am afraid that I share her concern."

"Well, there will be no reason to worry for much longer," Henry said, inspecting the contents of the cooking pot simmering over the fire. "Governor White has come to a decision. He sails for England tomorrow and will return with supplies and men."

"Tomorrow?" Taking a seat in a chair, Edeva clutched at her chest. "What does he expect us to do until his return?"

Henry rotated the quail, making sure that the bird's breast was cooked thoroughly. "Keep on as we are, as best as we can," he looked at his wife, seeing her unease. Knowing full well her view of the Indians, Henry decided to tread carefully in regards to his next statement. "Because they are so much better adapted to this land, White wants us to strengthen our friendship with the natives, so that they can assist us in surviving until his return."

Edeva's face grew pale, her cheeks quickly draining of their beautiful rosy hue. "He would have us align with the savages? But…surely Governor White will not be gone so long that we would have to seek out _their_ friendship?"

"It will be at least several months, Edeva. Winter may very well have settled over us by the time he might be expected back." Sighing, Henry crouched in front of Edeva, lightly holding her hand. "I understand your unease, I do. But the Governor believes that we will require their help. And he is probably right."

Eyes watering, Edeva slowly nodded. "I am just scared, Henry. This colony has been cursed from the start! And now…now we have to rely on the heathens." With her free hand, Edeva wiped at her tears, averting her gaze. "I am beginning to think that coming here was a mistake."

"Eva…" Henry squeezed his wife's hand, brushing golden hair away from her down-turned face. "Eva, please do not speak like this. We will be all right. We came here for a better life, and a better life is what we will have." He brought her palm to his lips, placing a soft kiss upon her ivory skin. "We just have to believe. Yes?"

Ever so slowly, Edeva's tears ran dry and she smiled, love making her eyes gleam brilliantly with hope. "Of course, Henry. When will I learn to not doubt your judgment?"

"It is not in your nature to be silent," Henry chuckled. He pulled her up, caressing her slender waist with reverent hands. "And I would not have you any other way." Their lips met, smacking as they slid together in want. Carding her fingers through her lover's long mane, Edeva moaned as Henry slipped his tongue into her mouth, hugging her own petite frame against the powerful form of his.

"Henry…" she whimpered, her breaths coming short and fast. "Henry, I…ah!" Edeva quickly pulled away, fear exploding within her eyes as she stared at the cabin door.

"Oh please, do not stop on my account, my lady."

Stunned, Henry twisted, facing the open doorway with a mixture of surprise and irritation. "Oh, Doctor," he said, relaxing only a little in response to the sight that greeted him. "I did not know you were there."

"You were preoccupied." The corners of Crowley's mouth crinkled as he tried to suppress a devilish grin, "It is understandable."

"I beg pardon, but may I ask why you are here?" Out of the corner of his vision, Henry saw Edeva turn her back to the two men, her hands working to conceal the deep blush that painted her delicate face. He failed to note that her hands were shaking.

The contempt in Crowley's words as he replied bordered on insubordination, though Henry chose to ignore it. "Governor White wishes for his armor to be mended in preparation for his voyage in the morn." He smiled, an artificial gesture, the blaze of the cooking fire reflecting in his shaded glasses. "I thought it best for you to begin as soon as possible, to accommodate our lordship."

"Henry, no!" Having duly collected herself, Edeva spun into Henry's arms, unconsciously seeking protection. She glanced out the door, seeing the dark of the night being pulled over the colony like a blanket. "It is late and we are ready to dine."

"I will wait outside," said Crowley, ducking under the low-hanging entryway.

Edeva clutched at her husband's shirt, leaning in close. "Henry, please do not go!"

Sighing heavily, Henry grasped her shoulders, pushing her away a bit. "I am sorry, Edeva. Truly. But if the Governor commands my services, how can I refuse?" He turned to collect the worn, leather bag containing his most precious blacksmith's tools, "It is a great honor to aid him, and if providence shall allow, such a commission could bring great honor to our family."

Henry turned to leave, but was cut off by his wife, a nervous, nearly panic-stricken expression marring her beautiful face. "Please Henry," she whispered, her alarm causing her tone to be unnaturally high, "I do not trust him."

"Who?" Narrowing his eyes, Henry leaned down, drawing Edeva close. "Who do you not trust, Edeva?"

Pressing her mouth into a thin line, Edeva flicked her eyes in the direction of the door. "Crowley."

Before he could stop himself, Henry had snorted with amusement. "Sorry," he said when she frowned at him. "Edeva, there is nothing to be concerned of in regards to Crowley. He is a doctor. He makes it his life's work to help people."

Edeva swallowed thickly, rolling her gaze to the roof in hesitancy. "He is strange. Something just seems to be off about him."

"Do not concern yourself with Thomas, Eva." Henry stroked Edeva's jaw, tracing the sharp line with his thumb. "He may be strange, but he is no threat. Now, do not wait for me tonight, Edeva. Eat and get some sleep. I will return when I can." Henry placed a hurried, chaste kiss upon her forehead and then jogged out into the night.

Through the open doorway, Edeva glimpsed her husband catching up to Crowley. The doctor had removed his spectacles and after a brief discussion, the two men began their journey to the heart of the village, where Henry would spend the next few hours hammering away within his workshop for the pleasure of an aristocrat. Before they were out of sight, however, Crowley turned and winked at Edeva, somehow discerning her glare of displeasure.

Edeva hastily pulled the door shut, shivering despite the muggy nighttime air.

**oOo**

**Author's Note:** Well, you just read the first flashback chapter! Yay!

This was a bit different for me to write, so I hope it turned out alright. I'm not too sure I like the village meeting part, with everyone screaming and yelling and all. But I was trying to show fear and discord, with authority just barely being adhered to. And I think that Crowley turned out a bit creepier than I had originally intended, but you know what, I think I like it!

Well anyway, I got a new job and I start Wednesday! Gosh I can't tell you how relieved I am! But it will be a stressful day regardless, so…could I please ask you all for reviews? It'll make me feel better… It really would...!

There are reference photos of Edea and Crowley in my FanFiction profile. As I've said before, I see Guy Pearce as the perfect Crowley (despite the fact that the character was described differently in the book) and as for Edeva, I see her as Kiera Knightly! (I fell in love with the movie The Duchess, and I thought that Kiera and Dom's on-screen chemistry was just too perfect to pass up!)

Well, that's it, so until next time we meet! Love you all! Really and truly!


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: A Demon's Fate**

**Author:** Annie Newton

**Fandom:** Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (book!verse/AU)

**Genre:** Angst, Romance, Drama, Horror

**Summery:** When a letter from Henry calls Abe back to his dear friend, feelings blossom. But an old enemy lies in wait, ready to destroy the Hunters' new found happiness.

**Pairing:** Abery, Crowley/Henry, a bit (a teenie, weenie little bit) of Crowley/Abraham, Henry/Edeva

**Rating:** NC-17 (overall) / PG (Chapter 5)

**Warnings:** Language, Violence, Disturbing Images/Concepts, Gore and Blood-Play, Graphic M/M Sexual Content, Non-Con/Rape, Torture and Character Death

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter nor any characters or concepts contained within.

**Word Count:** 2,514 (10,298 so far)

**Chapter 5: Come What May**

A nearby limb snapped, the echo causing Henry to jump out of his reverie. He glanced around, wildly looking through the maze of trees with the sincere hope of seeing his wife standing close-by in the wood. Henry knew his desire was irrational, that the idea of his lovely Edeva appearing beside him was beyond absurd.

But the daydream had seemed so real. It was blessing of his kind, how the memories of the past could be so tactile and vivid. One could relive moments so brief that they passed in the period of a single blink of an eye, without any of the deterioration that happens to plague the human race. Past friends, former lovers could once again be by your side, conversing and laughing and adoring as though they were not gone. Such recollections were a source of great happiness and tremendous solace to one cursed to walk the earth forever.

However, the memories could also be just that: a curse. Though able to provide comfort in times of loneliness, the memories could very well also act as ghosts, haunting the subconscious of the mind with whispers of the forlorn past. Those murmurs of the dead were at times frightening in their ferocity, insistent in their need to be paid attention to. On occasion, messages, long since forgotten or disregarded, might be screamed through time itself.

At that moment, echoing down through the centuries, Henry thought he discerned a warning.

A bright panic pushed through his dead veins like slow moving ice. _What the hell am I doing?_ No, Henry couldn't allow Abraham to leave. The young hunter would be alone and vulnerable, a combination that he was positive would prove fatal, especially so if Abraham persisted with his vendetta against the undead.

Of course, Henry had no doubt that Abe would continue. The man was simply too stubborn to drop his campaign, even in the face of assured death. Too stubborn, as well as too damned good, and Abraham well knew it.

And there in laid the problem.

Henry sighed, the breath of air sounding more like a groan as it drew to a close. The word 'good' to describe Abraham's hunting capabilities was an understatement, one of the biggest Henry had ever before used. Abe was uncannily proficient in the ways of killing Henry's brethren, a natural quality that the vampire had only refined. No matter how skilled the hunter was, however, he was only human; fragile and mortal. It would take only an instant of carelessness, or a minor miscalculation in technique and a single physical blow could shatter his body. Though he was more than capable, any one vampire at any moment in time could be the end of Abraham Lincoln.

But Thomas Crowley was not just any vampire.

Besides Henry, no other soul presently walking the Earth could possibly comprehend of the cruelty that Crowley was able to bring upon those who stood in his way. If Abraham left here incessant that his fight with vampires should go on unabated, Crowley's retribution would be immediate and severe. And it was Henry's great fear that Abraham's body would not be the only thing Crowley would be keen on breaking, if the older vampire got his claws on the hunter.

_No._

Henry clenched his teeth as a primordial rage warmed his being to the very core. So hot was his anger that his horse danced, nervously side-stepping in an attempt to escape his seething wrath. _No, _he swore as he steadied the mare. He would not allow Crowley to touch Abraham. He would not allow Crowley to get close enough to defile the young man.

_Not in any manner._

The question remained though: How to resolve the situation?

Abraham had been correct when he had assumed that his mentor knew more than what he had previously taught the young man. Throughout his many years, Henry had collected a wide arsenal of fighting skills as well as defensive moves, all of which could be utilized in a battle with one of his kind. He had found such knowledge to be indispensable during his younger years, and he understood that a burgeoning hunter like Abraham could make use of the various techniques.

However, those techniques demanded much more of a fighter than what Abraham was accustomed to, which was the very reason as to why Henry had neglected to instruct the man in them previously. Not only did the physical body need to be in top form, but the student had to be mature spiritually in order to achieve the full benefit of such lessons. They were two sides of a coin; one could not exist without the other.

Abraham was physically able, yes, but what about his mental ability? Had he progressed far enough to excel in a more advanced style of combat? Could he handle the rigorous training that Henry would be forced to unleash upon him?

Tired of standing, Henry's horse lowered her head, intent upon grazing on the season's last bit of good, green grass. Truly grateful for the distraction, Henry pulled on the reins, taking up the slack in them as she snapped back to attention, snorting her displeasure. He patted her neck, rubbing the patch of muscles just above her withers until her ears perked forward in contentment.

No, Abraham had been correct; they had to stay together. Truthfully, it was their only chance of finding a way out from this mess. And it was Abe's only chance, period.

Henry rubbed at his brow, relieved that he had finally decided upon a course of action but frustrated as to what it was. His human friend truly did not know what he would be getting himself into, nor did he have even the slightest inkling of what he was asking of Henry.

_No, for how could he?_

Henry cursed under his breath. Flashing his teeth in a feral bark, he spun his horse upon her haunches, urging her in the direction Abraham had ridden off in just minutes before.

**oOo**

Leaves crunched softly under his horse's hooves, the vegetation still somewhat moist and tinged with color from the fertile summer past. He followed yet another deer trail, trusting the meandering path to guide him back down the face of the hill and under the shade of the valley. From there, he would ride back to civilization, out of the countryside and away from Henry Sturges.

At least that's what Abraham supposed he would do. If he had to be completely honest, he wasn't really certain what his next move would be, now that Henry had turned his ever-loving immortal back on him.

Abe frowned, an odd blush coloring his cheeks as his mind replayed his conversation with Henry. Their talk had not gone well, a fact that bothered the young man immensely. He had truly anticipated Henry accepting his offer to join forces, to work together to defeat Thomas Crowley, the vampire that had stolen his friend's life. The fact that Henry hadn't, the fact that he had pushed Abe away, decisively away, hurt Abe in ways that were completely new to him.

Time and again he had proven himself competent in the ways of killing vampires. Henry had seen it well enough. Hell, Henry had approved of his talents and of the way in which he utilized them in fighting the undead devils. He was strong, an able fighter against those who stalk the night looking to take innocents from their families, and mothers from their children.

But it was true that he still had much to learn. Abe would be a fool if he tried to deny that fact. He knew that he could improve upon his combat skills and he was aware that his knowledge of the world's supernatural creatures was a bit lacking. He had expected that Henry could, in the weeks and the months following, expand on his understanding of such things. Abe had hoped that Henry would tutor him, bring him under his protection like he had only five years before when Abe was but a child.

Apparently that plan was now forfeit.

But it was not just the rejection of a friend and a partner – which stung plenty enough – that had wounded the young man so badly. It was the rejection of someone that Abe held close to his heart. That pain had cut deep into his being, and troubled him beyond imagination.

His horse slipped on a rock, the grimy moss peeling wetly away from the stone under the gelding's hoof. With a snort, the bay righted himself and Abe adjusted his position in the saddle, slightly annoyed that he had allowed his mind to wander. The ponderings over his feelings could wait. Besides, it wasn't like they mattered now anyway.

Pulling the gelding to a stop, Abe breathed deeply of the forest air, ripe with the smells of the changing season. The warmth of the sun's glow was comforting, but the occasional strong breeze chilled his head and whipped his hair before his face in an unruly manner. Sitting there in the weather, it occurred to him that investing in a hat might not be a bad idea. Maybe when this Crowley business was over with, he would settle down to a job so he could afford such an item.

He would head into town, Abe decided. He would ride into Evansville and make inquiries after Crowley. Henry had mentioned receiving a letter from Crowley six months previous, so Abe figured it would be safe to assume that Crowley had shown his face at about that time, to ask after Henry's whereabouts. Perhaps the question had been unique enough, or perhaps the inquisitor himself had been strange enough that the vampire just may have inadvertently made quite an impression upon the townspeople. If Abe was lucky, there might still be a couple of acute, keen-eyed citizens to help point him in the right direction, assuming that Crowley was still within the general area.

If Crowley was determined to put a stop to him, then Abe was determined to put an end to Crowley. Or at least try; come what may. Abe smiled, peeking up through the gaps in the branches to the blue sky, taking delight in the rays of light dancing upon his skin. No matter what, he would not fail her; he swore it upon his mother's grave.

The sound of approaching hoof beats whispered to his ears. The rhythmic thumping was distant but gaining quickly, the rider seemingly purposeful in his destination. Abe shot a look over his shoulder, staring back in the direction he'd just come from, certain that was the source of the racket. He spared a glance at his ax, tied snuggly to the rigging of his saddle but made no grab for it. Really though, there was only one person who would be racing through the tress after him.

_I hope._

As the rider came into view, Abe could not help the beam that curved his lips, his heart alighting for a fleeting moment. _He came back. _Despite his happiness, Abe worked to consciously school his features as he reined his mount around, turning to meet the vampire as Henry continued to lope towards him. After what had just passed between them, Abe preferred to remain stoic before his friend.

At least until Henry revealed his intentions for returning.

Henry slowed, easing his mare into a trot and then to a brisk walk before halting her before Abe. They sat there, gazing at one another appraisingly as their mounts touched noses. Abe blinked, wishing that he could see through the dark, thick lenses that hid his friend's eyes, to glimpse at what Henry was possibly thinking.

The wind lipped at the collar of Henry's overcoat and fingered through his hair. "You will not waver?"

"No," answered Abe, with strong conviction.

This did not seem to surprise Henry, who nodded to himself as if confirming a fact that he already knew to be true. He set his jaw, his stiffness in the saddle nearly betraying his inhumanness. "I cannot promise to be by your side if – when – you face Crowley. What I can promise is that I will teach you what you need to know in order to protect yourself." Henry paused, inclining his head slightly, "I will show you how to survive."

Abe grinned appreciatively. "Thank you, Henry."

"No," Henry said as he shook his head, a serious frown marring his face. "Do not thank me, Abraham. There is a good reason as to why I have yet to school you in these techniques. They are difficult and brutal. I will push you to your very limits, physically and psychologically. There is a good chance you will hate me when before we are finished."

"Henry, hating you is not a possibility." Abe smiled, almost sadly. "Not even remotely. And actually," fussing with the reins, Abe gave an uncomfortable shrug, "I meant 'thank you' for coming back. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate that gesture."

Henry took a long breath, letting the fresh air rinse him clean of what remained of their dispute. "Of course, Abraham," he said, his voice deep with feeling. "You're welcome."

They rode in silence on their way back down the hill, much like they had during their ascent earlier that morning. Unlike on that trip however, Abe now bore a smirk of confident victory, a sensation he was certain that Henry did not share in. Despite their disagreement the young man had, he supposed, gotten what he had wanted. The coming months would see the two friends spending a lot of time together, training and learning like before. Though the cause – the vampire Thomas Crowley – was serious, Abe was not dismayed; he would get be close to Henry, something that he had not realized that he had been longing for quite a while, until finally being summoned by the other man. This gave him satisfaction, a strange joy that filled his soul.

Abe's smile grew, a twinkle in his brown eyes. He looked forward to discovering just what this newly discovered sensation meant.

It was early evening by the time the two men reached Henry's cabin, the sun just beginning to dip below the crest of the hill they had just traversed, the lengthening shadows causing the air to cool rapidly around them. Abe dismounted from his horse, the animal eliciting a noisy groan as the hunter removed his weight from its back. He shrugged at the quizzical look Henry threw him. "His name's Duck."

Henry raised his brow, comprehending the meaning of the title. "Her name is Danseuse," he offered, stroking the mare's mane.

Taking Duck by the bridle to lead him to the barn, Abe snorted. "Seems to be a fitting name."

"Do not get too comfortable, Abraham," Henry warned, still atop Danseuse.

"Oh?" Abe turned to face Henry, noting the vampire's suddenly morose appearance. "And why not?"

"Because in the morning," Henry answered, gazing at his house, "we leave this place."

**oOo**

**Author's Note: **I cannot tell you how difficult this chapter was. I've always had an issue with communicating a character's thought processes. It's my weakness. But I tried right!? I faced my fear head-on!

But I do humbly apologize for the long wait for this update! Part of the delay was because of the difficulty I was having with this chapter, part of it was because of the political debates/election and part of it was because I was just so tired from my long days at work. But I will endeavor to ensure that such a delay doesn't happen again!

I also want to thank all my readers, old and new, for being interested in this story! You all are my inspiration, and I write mainly for you! Love yous! Keep the reviews coming, ok? They excite me!

The Abery part of this fic will begin shortly, I assure you. *wink* But don't get too excited; it won't get hot and heavy for some time. But it will get all nice and fluffy real soon!


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: A Demon's Fate**

**Author:** Annie Newton

**Fandom:** Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (book!verse/AU)

**Genre:** Angst, Romance, Drama, Horror

**Summery:** When a letter from Henry calls Abe back to his dear friend, feelings blossom. But an old enemy lies in wait, ready to destroy the Hunters' new found happiness.

**Pairing:** Abery, Crowley/Henry, a bit (a teenie, weenie little bit) of Crowley/Abraham, Henry/Edeva

**Rating:** NC-17 (overall) / PG (Chapter 6)

**Warnings:** Language, Violence, Disturbing Images/Concepts, Gore and Blood-Play, Graphic M/M Sexual Content, Non-Con/Rape, Torture and Character Death

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter nor any characters or concepts contained within.

**Word Count:** 5,515 (15,813 so far)

**Chapter 6: A Minimal Safe Distance**

Henry would not tell Abe where they were heading off to, other than they would be going 'away.' Abe began to wonder if Henry even had a specific destination in mind or was, in point of fact, only fleeing, attempting to put some distance between them and any potential danger which might be lurking in the shadows.

Abe had offered to help, to assist Henry in his frenzied packing of supplies for their journey. But his friend had declined, practically shooing Abe out from under his feet and back into a corner. Abe stayed there for a bit, watching from the room's edge as Henry rushed to and fro, gathering various things into neat little piles that only he seemed to understand the arrangement of. He thought he had grasped Henry's system after a while, and so moved to lend a hand at sorting the gear upon the kitchen table. A not-so-subtle growl from deep within the vampire's chest made Abe reconsider this action.

Taking the hint, Abe finally retreated into the dim library, leaving Henry to do what he wished. He nibbled on a cut of cold turkey left over from the night before as he browsed the shelves, reading the titles on the spines as they flickered in the lamplight. Henry had added to his collection since the time of Abe's last visit, and the young man espied a variety of new books, mainly from across the Atlantic. _Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus_ written by – and here Abe quirked his brow – 'Anonymous'; _The Hunchback of Notre-Dame_ by Victor Hugo; _A Christmas Carol_ by Charles Dickens.*

A volume bound in clean, white leather caught his eye. It was slim, compared to those surrounding it, but as Abe flipped through its crisp pages he noted how tightly the words were packed upon the paper. He found it a bit odd that no lettering graced the cover and so he turned to the front, looking for the title page. There, scrolled in bold, black ink across the cream-colored parchment were the words _Sense and Sensibility _written 'By A Lady'.

As Abe glanced through the book, it became clear that the narrative was about a woman, written by a woman. But really, Abe did not mind this fact. In his mind, a good story was a good story, regardless of the gender of the main character or the author. And if Henry had included this _Sense and Sensibility_ into his personal library, then it must be an enjoyable read.

A plush, Victorian sofa was pushed against the far wall, a lamp resting upon a table situated by the lounge's side. Reaching out, Abe turned up the wick, bathing the furniture's tufted, burgundy velvet in a rich, yellow glow. After unfolding the rabbit-fur throw from the back of the couch, Abe reclined himself into the cushions, draping the blanket over his lower body and tucking the soft pelt beneath his legs.

Glancing in the direction of the doorway, Abe saw the movement of Henry's shadow, ghosting across the grey stone of the dining room walls. Quiet thuds and thumps met his ears, the sound of metal knocking against wood. A minute passed, Abe taking comfort in the ambiance of his surroundings, in this moment in time, before nestling in to read.

_The family of Dashwood had long been settled in Sussex…_

**oOo**

"Abraham?" A hand touched his shoulder, nudging him gently. "Abraham."

Abe stirred, blinking his eyes awake to the light of the din. Henry was kneeling before him, the white book clutched in one of his hands, the other resting lightly upon Abe's forearm. The vampire gazed at him keenly, eyes soft with adoration. His stomach fluttered briefly. _How strange_, thought Abe.

"I fell asleep," Abe said, a yawn muffling the words.

"Yes."

"Did I snore?"

The corner of Henry's mouth quirked slightly. "A little."

From the kitchen, Abe detected the sweet aroma of freshly prepared food. He arched, stretching out his long form. "Breakfast?" he asked, frowning as his neck cricked.

Henry stood and helped his friend up off the sofa, steadying the man as his knees wobbled, "There are hotcakes waiting for you." When he was sure that Abe could balance himself on his own, Henry made to return the book upon the shelf, sliding it into its designated place. "The horses are packed and ready. We should leave at first light."

Though it was difficult, Abe managed to stifle his groan. He truly understood their predicament and deeply appreciated the fact that Henry was pulling up stakes solely on his account, to keep him safe. But honestly, at that moment, nothing would have brought him – not to mention his muscles – more pleasure than bedding down for a few more hours of shut-eye.

"It is imperative that we remove ourselves from prying eyes as quickly as possible," said Henry, perhaps sensing Abe's lack of enthusiasm. _Well yeah, vampire._ "Believe me Abraham, in instances such as these, every hour counts."

Accepting this fact – albeit reluctantly – Abe nodded. He wandered into the dining area, finding the plate which sat upon the table stacked high with steaming cakes. "Roughly how far might we travel today?" The food smelled good and Abe dug in, greedily.

"I am hoping for us to make fifteen miles before sundown." Henry had followed Abe into the kitchen and now busied himself with putting away the larger pots and pans into the wooden cabinets. "Perhaps more if the horses remain fresh and sound. They will be transporting a lot of weight, so we will have to be mindful of their comfort." He closed the stove's damper, snuffing the fire for the duration of their absence, however long that would turn out to be.

"Duck will endure, I assure you," Abe said around a mouthful of food. "It's that mare of yours that you should concern yourself over."

Henry raised a brow. "Do tell."

"Well," Abe shrugged, swallowing in a rush. "She has two white feet."

A small scowl turned Henry's mouth. "I see," he drawled, voice dripping with playful condemnation. "Your Duck? He is rather small for a colt, is he not? It surprises me that you had him castrated."

Abe choked. "Hey now!" he squeaked when he could talk clearly again. "There is nothing wrong with Duck's size! He's just as big as the average horse, maybe more so; he only looks small because your mare is built like a banshee."

"Yes," Henry nodded, feigning seriousness, "it is all Danseuse's fault."

"And besides," mumbled Abe as he forked the last of the hotcakes into his mouth, "I did not castrate him. He was already gelded by the time I purchased him."

"And a fine purchase he was," said Henry with a dip of his head. Abe shot him a look. "No, no I say that in the utmost sincerity, Abraham. He is a fine animal, sturdy and stout of heart. He will serve you well."

"Duck is grateful for your praise." Picking up a glass of cool water, Abe put it to his lips, "He thinks."

Henry pushed off the wall from which he had been leaning, "You finish here, Abraham, and then get ready. The air is cool, so I suggest you dress warmly." He began mounting the staircase, "I will return shortly."

"And then we will leave?"

"And then we will leave."

The wooden chair groaned as Abe pivoted within the seat. "You do know what makes Duck so sturdy of a horse, right?" he called up the steps after the vampire, his voice high and taunting. "He has no white feet!"

Allowing the trap door to close with a definitive slam, Henry stood within the false cabin and shook his head. He tried to stifle a chuckle from rumbling within his stomach, but failed at it miserably. Of course, it was not like he tried too hard, really.

He stepped outside into the cool, pre-dawn gloom of the new day. The stars had already faded and the moon had long ago set, leaving what remained of the night incredibly dark and gloomy. This did not matter to Henry. His vision was just as clear and sharp as in the bright light of the day; perhaps more-so.

The horses were waiting beside the paddock fence, their backs piled high with the equipment that the two men would need to find and begin a new settlement; tools, cloth and skins and yes, weapons were included in the mix. Abe's ax was there, strapped to Duck's side and hanging at the ready. Danseuse would be carrying her share of arms as well: one Kentucky long rifle within its well oiled, leather sheath and two flintlock pistols, one of which Henry now holstered at his waist. There were many dangers out on the frontier, and only a few of them had four legs. Protection for himself, and particularly for Abe, was a priority.

But there was still one weapon Henry had yet to pack.

Off to his right, the barn sat within a lonely shadow, the faint, flickering glow of a lantern burning in-between the gaps in the boards. Cinching his coat tighter, Henry made his way into the stable, ensuring that the door locked securely behind him.

**oOo**

Henry found Abraham in the library. The man was standing before the wall of books, looking upon them with a forlorn air and longingly running his fingers across the spines. As Henry entered the room, Abe threw him a glance, his eyes conveying the great sadness he felt at abandoning such a collection of invaluable knowledge.

"If it would make you happy, I believe there is room enough for a couple."

Abe paced in front of the shelves, thoughtfully considering the titles. Slowly he reached out, picking a thick volume wrapped in brown leather, and then another just as think, encased in black. Henry didn't need to read the spines; he knew what they were by heart.

Cradling the books with a tender carefulness, Abe turned to face Henry. "The Collected Works of William Shakespeare and your own compendium of world poetry."

Henry nodded, grinning fondly at the young man. "Fine choices, Abraham. Very fine." He stepped clear of the doorway, motioning for Abe proceed through. "Shall we go?"

The morning air was indeed cool, just as Henry had said. The wind blew with the promise of winter, causing the browning leaves still within the trees to quiver and shake. The sun was just peaking upon the world, ridding the valley of its murk. After mounting, Henry steered his mare west, Abe following at a close distance. Henry never saw the look that Abe threw over his shoulder back at the cabin; an expression of loss and respectful remembrance for all of the memories the young man was leaving behind.

The ground was soft, the previous night's moisture having wetted the earth, padding their footfalls against their heavy burdens. They traveled slowly, maintaining the pace at a meandering walk to ease the horses' journey. Talk was kept at a minimum, a tactic used to both conserve energy and conceal their movements. Abe didn't mind, really. He took the opportunity to enjoy his surroundings, listening to the wind brush over the land and the animals chattering in response to their presence.

The miles steadily passed. They moved in the valleys nearly exclusively, only climbing the treacherous hills when absolutely necessary. When this occurred, they would dismount and lead the horses on a zigzag path up the tiny mountains, taking care to select the easiest route. Creek bed crossings were another slight complication. Those who were dry created a hazard in that the loose stones wobbled precariously under the weight of the animals, threatening to shift at the wrong moment and cause the horses to founder; they took to guiding the horses across those as well. The larger ones, the ones still flowing within their banks, were, fortunately, shallow enough to not have to worry about the swiftness of the current, and the cool water worked to soothe the tiring hooves of their mounts.

When the sun was high overhead, indicating midday, the travelers finally stopped to rest. Abe removed his feet from the stirrups, stretching his cramped legs before swinging out of the saddle, landing harshly upon the packed earth. He unsnapped Duck's bit and loosened his girth so that the gelding could eat and have some comfort. The bay snorted as Abe patted his neck, swishing his tail in annoyance before lowering his head to graze. Hungry, Abe rifled through the packs strapped to Ducks side until he found a wedge of cheese and a hunk of bread, food that Henry had so graciously prepared for him.

Glancing over Duck's withers, Abe spotted Henry across the clearing, tending to Danseuse. Henry was holding a slice of dried apple in front of the mare's nose and as Abe watched in wonder, the horse lipped at the man's palm, grabbed the treat and munched eagerly. Henry stroked her face, brushing her forelock from her eyes before turning to meet Abe's gaze, flashing a knowing smile.

Caught off guard, Abe smiled back, nervously trying to hide the strange heat rising in his cheeks. He busied himself with his meal, wandering to a stand of trees, finding one whose bark was not too coarse and sat down, leaning back onto the trunk with a tired sigh. Henry soon joined him, twirling a leaf, bright red and full of veins, between his fingers. For a while, they relaxed in comfortable silence, allowing the minutes to pass in a steady stream of music from their surroundings.

"I am sorry."

Abe looked at Henry, startled at the suddenness of his words. "Why for?"

"I am sorry for not informing you of Crowley's letter." Playing with the leaf, Henry hesitated. "I should not have hidden it from you. I should have trusted you to come to your own decision then, at the time. And I am sorry that I did not."

"You had your reasons, I'm sure," Abe intoned slowly. When Henry remained silent, Abe took another bite from his bread, gazing into the blue sky with a note of abjection, which he was quick to quell. Abe knew there was something that Henry wasn't telling him; it was plainly obvious. He truly desired for his friend to share this trouble with him, to extend the trust between them to include whatever dark secret that Henry felt the need to hide.

Abe generally understood the other man's guarded nature. As a vampire, Henry surely had accumulated many secrets over his long existence. There were things that Henry would probably never tell him, burdens that he would carry within himself until his very end. Though he respected this condition of their relationship, a part of Abe regretted that it had to be so. He longed to offer his help, yearned to share in the story of Henry's life, the good and – inevitably, because Abe would be a fool if he believed that his immortal friend had always been like his present, docile self – the bad. He desired for Henry to include him, and he desired to _be_ desired, in that fashion.

But it was clear that Henry was not yet ready for this...this transition.

Not yet.

Abe sighed. "My answer would have been the same, regardless," he said, trying to reassure Henry. "So in the end, it turned out not to matter."

Henry nodded once. "Thank you." He stood, letting go of the leaf and extending his hand. "We should be on our way."

They continued with their journey, the scenery blurring around them. As the day progressed and the sun began to wane, washing the sky of its color and staining it to a toneless gray, Abe turned up his collar, nestling into the wool coat as best he could. The air was turning cold, biting at his flesh with the apparent hunger of a predator. He shivered; the coming night would be chill.

Abe worked hard at hiding his growing discomfort. His back ached from the unyielding seat of the saddle and his thighs felt as jelly, the muscles tired from the tension of gripping Duck's girth. Duck, for his part, seemed to be handling the miles well enough, his ears pricked forward with endless curiosity and his gait bouncy and unwavering. Abe patted his neck. _Good boy._

When there was perhaps an hour of useable daylight left, Henry signaled a halt. They were within a wide clearing, the earth thick with grass and the air alive with the rippling of a nearby stream. "We will camp here for the night," he said, turning in the saddle to face Abe. "I am sure that you are ready for a rest."

The travel-weary, weather-pinked face that met the vampire was nearly comical. Abe glared at Henry as the other man barely concealed his smirk beneath the folds of his coat's collar. "An endurance rider, I am not," Abe intoned slowly, dangerously.

"Forgive me," Henry said in a rush, not daring to look upon the annoyed expression of his companion for fear of laughing aloud. "There are times I forget how trying a whole day in the saddle can be to…," he paused, searching for the right phrase. "Well, to a body."

Mumbling something under his breath – Henry would later swear he perceived a "damn" and a "vampire" – Abe carefully leaned forward, gingerly swung his leg over Duck's back, and dismounted. Rather awkwardly. He clutched at the saddle's horn as his knees wobbled, desperately hoping that he wouldn't fall down and make a fool of himself. As he straightened, his back popped loudly, the pain throbbing steadily up his spine. His limbs tingled as the blood rushed through them again and his head swam with the sudden change in bodily posture.

Behind him, Henry was hard at work stripping Danseuse of her gear, taking extra care with the miscellaneous packs tied to her back. His movements were fluid; Abe could detect no sign of stiffness, no hint of any ache. His eyes narrowed with annoyance. "You could have the decent courtesy to at least act a _little bit_ sore, Henry." A soft giggle from the vampire was all that was afforded to him in answer.

They set about making camp for the evening. As Henry took charge of unpacking the horses, Abe went to gather firewood. Henry explained to him the general size and shape of the various sticks that they would need in order to erect their tent and after a couple of tries, Abe was finally able to find those that satisfied Henry's fancy. While his friend got to work on their shelter, Abe built a fire, ringing the blaze with a collection of stones from the nearby creek. He drove a pair of forked sticks into the ground on either side of the fire, placing a much longer, stouter sick within their cradle to hang over the flames. So they could both enjoy some tea, Abe retrieved a cooking pot from among the gear scattered upon the ground, captured some creek water and set it to boil.

By the time large bubbles rolled from the bottom of the cast-iron pot, they were at last settled for the night. The sun had long since dipped below the hill to the west, leaving the sky drained of enough light for Henry to safely remove his glasses. As Henry brought over a bit of hardtack and cheese, Abe removed the pot from the heat for it to cool. Earlier, Henry had placed a well-rounded log beside the fire and now the two sat on it together, enjoying their first precious moments of rest after a long day.

Abe chewed at the hard bread, closing his eyes in pleasure as the warmth from the blaze caressed his skin, easing the tension from his muscles. He took a long, deep breath in through his nose, held it for a stretch, then let it out in a throaty sigh. Slowly, his consciousness began to slip into a netherworld, the sounds and the sensations around him muted by the comfortable tranquility…

He became aware of a pair of eyes upon him.

Startled, he turned his head, meeting Henry's gaze with an abashed grin. "I guess I am tired," he said in response to the look of interest Henry was giving him. "It was a long day."

Henry nodded, smiling in sympathy. "I understand. And all humor aside, I am sure this day was difficult for you." Adding the leaves to the cooling pot of water, Henry stirred until the tea was rightly seasoned. "Tomorrow will be just as arduous. You should consider going to sleep early."

"Oh, no," Abe shook his head, finishing off the hunk of cheese with a lick to his fingers. "Thank you, but I do not need to be sent to bed as if I were a child," he said, mock resentment coloring his tone. His brow creased in sudden concern. "How far will we ride tomorrow? You know, just out of general curiosity."

"Roughly as far as today."

In a rush of air, Abe's chest deflated, his expression falling like a stone.

"Here," exclaimed Henry, with enough vigor to induce a roll of the eyes from Abe. He handed the hunter a cup, the tea steaming in the cool air, "Drink up. It will warm your weary bones."

They talked as dusk descended into night, the forest transitioning to the world of the nocturnal. With excitement, Abe shared his impressions of New Orleans, a city like no other he had ever before seen. The hustle, the bustle, the busy people and the loud music and the mixed culture of a land far off and yet incredibly close. Henry listened with rapt attention, taking delight in the profound wonder of his friend. It had been a long while since he'd been south and my, had the land changed.

As their mutual laughter filled the darkness, chasing away imagined demons and real woodland dangers, Henry found himself easing into a state of contentment he had not experienced in ages. Even with the danger Henry knew they were in, Abraham had a way about him to always make him feel at ease. It was a gift he admired of the young man, and found peculiarly alluring.

It made Henry feel as if he belonged; like he had at last found someone who, despite their base differences, completely understood him.

Henry frowned. _That's not true._ As pleasant as his previous thoughts were, Abraham only understood him as far as Henry allowed the young hunter to understand him. There was much that Abraham did not know about his vampire friend.

_Nor can he. Not ever, no matter what may happen._

And if these things, by chance, would ever become known to Abraham, Henry would lose him. He was sure of it.

"Henry!"

Henry jumped, startled by the shout. Abraham was watching him intently, a strange look upon his face. He seemed unsure if he should be amused or concerned about his friend's distraction. "Sorry. What did you say?"

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I am well." Flustered, Henry poked at the fire with a long, pointed stick, sparks taking to the air with a crackle. "What was it that you said?"

Abe furrowed his brow, studying Henry's half-shadowed face by the orange glow of the flames. "It appeared you wandered off for a moment. Where did you go?"

"I did not go anywhere, Abraham. I was right here." Another pop from the fire, a hint of finality. "I am right here."

It was a lie, a deflection. Abe swallowed, mystified by Henry's sudden change of behavior. Their evening up to this point had been very pleasant, and now abruptly, was no longer. Something was wrong, and damn it all, he wanted to help fix it!

But he could not. Not until Henry let him in on whatever mystery was upsetting him.

Abe finished his tea, wrapping his coat tighter against himself as stood, the breeze brushing lightly against his skin. "I said, it is time for me to turn in. If tomorrow is anything like today, I will need all the rest I can catch. Goodnight, Henry." He turned from the campfire and walked to their tent, patting Duck's nose as he went by the sleepy, tethered horses. The gelding nickered into his palm, his heated breath billowing into the dark.

The tent was of a comfortable size, big enough to shelter the two of them and their most precious gear, if bad weather threatened. Abe found his bedroll, unrolled it, and – only removing his coat – nestled into the padded wool lining. He thought for a moment before getting up once again, making a grab for the rabbit throw and draping it across his sleeping bag. Finally, he settled down, laying his head against the seat of his saddle for support. The stars shone above him, twinkling like shards of ice upon a black, eternal river.

He closed his eyes, pulling the cover up to his chin and breathed deeply of the frosty, woodland air.

"May I join you?"

Blinking his eyes back open, Abe espied Henry just outside the tent, kneeling in the dirt. The vampire looked tired, his eyes drained of strength. "Of course," Abe said, his voice thick from sleepiness. He rolled over as Henry entered, giving his friend enough space for his own bedroll. "You need not ask."

Opening his bag, Henry laid down, reveling in the insulated warmth of the material. His body was cooling, the blood he'd taken the week before beginning to lose its vitality. He would have to see to that, before too much longer.

But not yet.

Beside him, Abe was snuggling back into his cocoon, hiding his face under the fur blanket. His back was to the vampire, and Henry watched his shoulders rise and fall in concert with his breath. "Abraham?"

The man made a noise of acknowledgement, more grunt than actual words. He was slipping fast into sleep, exhaustion working its magic upon him.

"Goodnight, Abraham."

"…'Night, Henry."

Within minutes, they were both sound asleep.

**oOo**

Abe awoke slowly to the sweet, earthy smell of roasting meat. He opened his eyes, finding that the sun was only beginning its ascent into the world, starting the day with a beautiful show of orange and pink. With a great yawn, he stretched, unfolding his long limbs from the tangle of his bedding. It had been a good night, his sleep deep and restful.

"Good morning."

Henry sat by the fire, grasping the book of Shakespeare in a leisure hand. His glasses were at the ready, polished and placed upon his thigh for when the air became too bright. He was fully dressed and appeared to have been up for hours. "Breakfast?"

Shifting his eyes toward the fire, Abe saw what looked to be a wild hare cooking upon the spit above the flames. It had been skinned and cleaned, and the meat looked moist and brown; Abe felt his mouth water.

"I presume that to be a 'yes,'" said Henry, with a deliberate, sly smile.

He ate quickly, the juices running down his chin. Henry continued to read, allowing Abe all the time he desired. The vampire seemed to be in no real hurry to begin the day's journey, the distance they had already traveled perhaps easing his fears pursuit. Abe was glad for this; Henry needed to relax a bit, for the sake of them both.

Finishing his share of the rabbit, Abe squatted by the fire, soaking in the last of the heat. "That was real good, Henry."

Henry flipped a page, "I was acquainted with Washington's chef."

Abe turned sharply, squinting at the other man. "Washington? As in George Washington?"

"As in."

Abe was aghast. "You knew George Washington? You fought in the War of Independence?"

"I did," said Henry, closing the book. "More or less, that is."

"Wha –" stammered Abe as he searched the vampire's eyes. "Well, tell me about him! What was he like!?"

"Well, he –"

"Did you also know Thomas Jefferson!?"

"Yes, I –"

"The Adams'!? What about Benjamin Franklin!? Were you at the signing of the Declaration!? What battles did you –"

"Abraham!"

Abe shrank a little, rocking back on his heels in dejection. Henry instantly felt bad for his outburst, though it had contained no heat. "I am sorry."

"No," Abe gave a half smile. "I am sorry. I got over zealous."

"That is okay," Henry nodded. "You are young."

"It just…" Abe looked away, tightening his lips in thought. "It just seems like I know almost nothing about you, Henry. Your past, your experiences…" His eyes met Henry's again, crying an unspoken plea. "You are a mystery to me."

A moment passed before Henry frowned, turning away from Abe's gaze. For the span of two heartbeats, Abe wondered if he had gone too far, that in trying to get Henry to talk, he had crossed an invisible line that lay between them. A line not meant to be traversed. Oddly ashamed, he was about to seek forgiveness when Henry motioned for him to remain quiet.

The vampire watched the dying fire, the smoldering coals reflecting as hot liquid within his eyes. "You are correct, Abraham. You are not well acquainted with my history." He took a breath, letting it out slowly as he came to terms with some enormous internal struggle. At last he again looked upon Abe. He smiled, though it was reserved and had a touch of sadness. "I promise you, I will tell you soon. All you wish to know, you will know before much longer."

Abe's relief was palpable. _Finally._ He smiled back. Soon, he might have the chance to help his dear friend, could have the opportunity to aid in the unknotting of whatever had bound Henry's soul. Finally, at long last, they might be getting somewhere. "Thank you, Henry."

Henry was still for another second before slowly nodding. With a disciplined face he slipped his sunglasses on, pushing them up the bridge of his nose until the rims were flush against his brow. Having shut the light out, and the darkness in, Henry stood, setting the book aside. "It is past time for us to vacate here. Pack up. We leave in an hour."

The sun had topped the hill by the time they broke camp. It shone brightly, warming their backs against the autumn wind. By all appearances, the day was to be much more pleasant than the day before, a fact that Abe was immensely glad for. A fellow could only take freezing air to the face for so long, without growing irritable.

The mild weather must have worked a spell upon Henry as well, for the man was bright and cheery all through the hours. Whereas the previous day had been spent in near total silence, this day bore witness to a rather chatty Henry. The talk was not in the least bit deep or philosophical, but Abe was grateful for the conversation regardless. It made him feel comfortable, at ease with their recent understanding and Henry's pledge to be more open. For the first time since their reunion, Abe felt as if the eggshells beneath his feet had been removed, and that now, they could finally resume their friendship.

They stopped for only an hour at lunch. The terrain was easier than the day before, less hilly and rocky so that the horses need not have strained as much. The animals were enduring well and even appeared to like the physical exercise. Abe was a bit surprised by this; Duck's previous owner had claimed the horse to be as lazy as a moss-covered stone.

After their rest, Henry slowed their pace considerably. He seemed to be pondering their surroundings, studying the land with a critical eye and mentally calculating their general position. His talk gradually quieted until finally stopping altogether. Abe allowed him his privacy, remaining silent so as to not interfere with whatever thoughts were running through his mind.

Henry drew to a halt. Abe pulled Duck right alongside the vampire, wincing as the gelding stamped his hoof, jarring the bottom of the man's spine. Though he had been surviving the day's ride adequately enough, in the last hour, Abe's muscles had renewed their protest with a delightful vigor. Now, as the sun was beginning to wane, Abe looked at the area with a hopeful gaze. They were within a large open space, a tall hill rising to the north and a quick stream cutting the clearing to the south. He could see that the forest was deep on the opposite bank, the trees thick and nearly impassable with unchecked growth.

"This is the place," said Henry beside him.

"Oh good." Abe groaned, delicately swinging out of the saddle. "Another night, another camp."

"No, Abraham. Not another camp."

Abe looked up expectantly.

"This is the place for our new home."

A beat, and then Abe beamed. "Hallelujah."

**oOo**

**Author's Note:** (*_A Christmas Carol_ was written in 1843, several years _after_ this story is set in. I just wanted to include it. Sorry for any confusion.)

Well, this was certainly a long chapter. I normally don't write chapters this long. I prefer not to. Sometimes it's necessary, but I do try to avoid it. I worry about a casual reader being scared away by the large word count or getting bored with a long chapter.

But anyway, it is what it is.

I'm satisfied with this chapter, though there are a couple of weak points. I'm really not happy with the tit for tat between Henry and Abe at the beginning about their horses. I thought that was a really cute concept as I began writing it, but I don't think it came out too well. The idea was to replicate a conversation that two modern-day men might have about their vehicles. "My car is better than your car because of x, y and z." Hope I did alright with it.

Also, there is a myth about horses with white feet. The idea is that a white foot is more tender and susceptible to injury. Personally, I've never found that to be true. Others I know swear by it. Who knows?

In case anyone wants to track our boys on a map, I'm envisioning them settling down at what is now New Harmony, Indiana. Around that general area. They will be making camp alongside of the Harmony Creek, which feeds into the Wabash to the east. There's also some big ponds around there, and I'm planning a scene or two taking place at one of those ponds. Just so you know though, I'm not from New Harmony, nor have I ever been there, and so I'm not familiar with the topography. But this is fiction, so… What the hell, right? I'm going off of Google maps.

I do want to – again – apologize for my absence and late update. There are some things going on in my personal life. Nothing too bad or anything, but it is enough to keep me away from my writing more than I'd like to be. I'm sorry. I am trying.

Next chapter is another flashback. I haven't yet made up my mind, but it might be an R rating. We'll see.

I've gotten an AO3 account. Finally. Penname is AnneNewton.

I do love you all! I can't tell you how happy it makes me to see a new follower, favorit-er or a new review! Please, don't be shy! If you would like to leave feedback, go right on ahead! I won't bite ;)

Till next time we meet.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: A Demon's Fate**

**Author:** Annie Newton

**Fandom:** Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (book!verse/AU)

**Genre:** Angst, Romance, Drama, Horror

**Summery:** When a letter from Henry calls Abe back to his dear friend, feelings blossom. But an old enemy lies in wait, ready to destroy the Hunters' new found happiness.

**Pairing:** Abery, Crowley/Henry, Crowley/Abraham, Henry/Edeva

**Rating:** NC-17 (overall) / PG (Chapter 7)

**Warnings:** Language, Violence, Disturbing Images/Concepts, Gore and Blood-Play, Graphic M/M Sexual Content, Non-Con/Rape and Dub-Con, Torture and Character Death

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter nor any characters or concepts contained within.

**Word Count:** 4,002 (19,815 so far)

**Chapter 7: March, 1588 – Roanoke Island, VA **

Twenty-two of their number had succumbed since Governor White's return voyage to England. Ten were dead by the Celebration of Christ's birth, and by the first real thaw of the New Year, another twelve. The loss of life came not from an Indian war party as the settlers had once feared, but from within their own encampment, from within their own souls.

A disease had rained death upon them and now, they were drowning in it.

The scourge began slowly, making the victim suffer from weakness and faint for the span of a couple of days, before finally striking him with fever and delirium, a kind of madness so frightening and total as to compel his relations to restrain him, and to leave him in isolation for fear of injury or infection to their own selves. Death came quickly after that, truly a mercy, for both the victim and the colony alike.

Doctor Crowley worked hard to remedy the situation, to fight this mystery disease and find a cure. His efforts, while valiant, were never enough. Though he had managed to slow the progress of the virus, his endeavors only put off the horrid inevitable. In the end, the pestilence claimed every man, woman and child it deigned to touch, leaving a grieving, broken family in its wake.

And that was what Edeva feared the most.

She wiped at her brow, a gesture more aimed at clearing her hair from her eyes than any sweat that may have collected upon her skin. The ax within her hands felt grimy, the handle heavy and slick with moisture. She rubbed her palms over her skirt, drying the perspiration before once again hefting the tool above her and swinging it down upon the block of wood before her. It was a good blade and it cut cleanly, cracking the piece of oak like freshly made butter.

Edeva straightened and touched her belly, breathing deeply as she tried to recover from the physical exertion. From now until the birth, her life was to be in perpetual jeopardy. Her life, as well as the life of her unborn child.

Alone with these thoughts in these quiet moments that were so rare within the walls of the colony, Edeva worried what might become of her husband should she contract the plague. She loved Henry for his sensitive nature. _Among other things._ And though this sensitivity manifested itself in a number of ways, one of the most prominent was a strong need to shield those he loved from harm. If the worst happened, if she should get sick, Edeva feared that Henry just might lose himself, drowning in blame for his imagined failure to keep her safe.

Bending low, she collected a few of the logs that she had just cut into a respectable armful and gingerly made her way to the cabin. She released the load just outside of the home's entryway, knelt to stack the wood into a neat pile before stepping into the home. She inspected the simmering stew within the cooking pot while wiping her hands upon her blouse to clean them of dirt. Happy with its progress, she returned the lid and stoked the fire, the blaze crackling with renewed life.

A bit warm, Edeva propped open the hut's door, allowing the early spring air to whisper about the room. The breeze that brushed her cheek smelled of new leaves and damp earth, the scents comforting after a long winter. But there was something else there as well, something more foul. Riding the undercurrent were the more human odors of smoke and rot.

She wrinkled her nose, turning away from the open door. Any hope of refuge from the offending smell was thwarted however, for the scent of the dried greens and ripe meat inside of the boiling pot belched fumes into her face, and her stomach contracted. A hot clamminess prickled her skin, the warmth flooding out from within. Too late she realized what was about to happen.

Rushing blindly, Edeva stumbled to the doorway, dizziness stealing away her womanly coordination. She reached the edge of the frame just as the first wave of nausea rumbled its way through her body. Leaning forward, Edeva retched up what remained of her noonday meal, combing her hair back in a desperate attempt to keep herself clean through it all. When at last the convulsions had stopped, she sank down onto her knees, exhaustion bleeding the last of her strength.

"Edeva!"

Glancing up, Edeva saw Henry running up the path to their cabin, tacky dirt splattering against his heavy footfalls as he sprinted the final distance. A blush spread across her cheeks, coloring her pallid face in chilled mortification. Ashamed to appear in such a state before her husband, she turned away, even as Henry fell to her side, breathless with concern.

"Edeva!?" She registered the sensation of Henry pulling her into his arms, felt his cautious caress as he tried to get her to face him. "What has happened? Edeva, please look at me! Are you unwell?"

"I am fine," Edeva whispered, falling into Henry's assuring, protective embrace. She wiped at her face, clearing the tears from her eyes and the sweat from her brow. "I just became faint, is all. Silly of me, really."

Henry frowned. "Respectfully Eva, but I glimpsed something more serious than a dizzy spell."

Sighing, Edeva at last tilted her head up, meeting her husband's imploring gaze. "Really, my dear Henry, I am well. I am only suffering from tiredness, brought on by my condition." She smiled reassuringly. "I am in good health, considering, and will bear you a strong son yet."

The corners of Henry's eyes crinkled as he pondered his wife's words. "Would you think me strange if I told you that I have always found myself partial to a little girl?"

Edeva's features softened. She stroked the side of Henry's jaw, feeling his coarse stubble prickle her finger tips. "Of course not, my love."

The breeze shifted, and the new course of the current blew the offending stink of Edeva's sickness into their nostrils. Edeva screwed up her face, paling before Henry's very eyes. With a deft kick, Henry buried the vomit under a pile of loose dirt and then stood, gently pulling his wife up with him and into his arms.

"Henry, no," Edeva protested, as he walked her to the bed. "There are still things to do." She glanced over her shoulder, espying the large pile of un-chopped logs. "The wood…"

"I can manage the rest of the wood. You need to rest."

"But –"

"No, Edeva." They had reached the edge of the cot and with the greatest of care, Henry lowered Edeva's petite frame onto the straw mattress. He reached for a brightly patched quilt – a wedding gift from Edeva's mother – and draped it across the slender woman, pulling it up to her delicate shoulders. "You must take care of yourself," said Henry as he leaned down, placing a chaste kiss to her lips. "For our child."

Edeva smiled, fatigue making her eyelids slowly flutter closed. She really was tired, and lying down only seemed to magnify her exhaustion. She felt Henry's hands leave her and in a drowsy voice, called out his name.

"Yes, Edeva?"

"I love you."

There was a moment's hesitation before she sensed Henry near her again. "And I love you."

She fell asleep knowing he that was still by her side.

**oOo**

Henry sat on the hard, compacted dirt of the bedside until Edeva's breaths turned slow and deep, a signal that she was resting comfortably. He got up slowly, ghosting his lips across her forehead as he did so. After straightening her long, golden locks against the white frills of the pillow, Henry turned from his wife and headed out into the golden light of the afternoon, closing the cabin's door securely behind him.

The ax, iron head dull against the brightness of the sun, was leaning up against the chopping block, a mound of uncut wood heaped beside it. In Henry's absence, Edeva had managed to chop a little more than half of the day's firewood, a fact that irritated him greatly. Edeva was supposed to be minding her health and had been instructed by both himself and Dr. Crowley to rest and to complete her chores at a slow, easy pace. Heaving an ax was exactly the kind of thing that she had been told to avoid.

With a sigh, Henry placed a block of wood upon the tree stump and grabbed the ax by the end of the handle, lifting it up to waist level. Anchoring his feet flat beneath his shoulders, Henry splayed his hands upon the ax's belly and swung back, rotating the blade in an arc over his head and down into the wood. The split was clean, the log dividing straight down the center with a satisfying snap.

Piece after piece Henry cut, whittling the wood into smaller and more manageable chunks for him and his wife. The work was tedious, and he soon found himself easing into a rhythm that allowed reflective thought. His mind drifted to the colony and of the precarious situation they were all in. As the logs fell one by one and his muscles loosened, thoughts began to pour through him, thoughts that were not particularly agreeable.

It had been his idea to come to the New World, to leave England and everything that they had ever known. He had reached the decision in the sincere hope of improving their lives, in the belief that he could better provide for Edeva once in a land where he would be unhindered by his meager social status. As a humble blacksmith, Henry would have never been able to offer his wife a lavish lifestyle, nor would he have been allowed to climb up and out of his position as a lowly commoner.

Edeva said that she was content with this, that she did not need rank or riches to fulfill her life or her heart. She was happy with the path of her life, and of her marriage. She had told him that she was confident that the love that they shared for one another would overcome any and all hardships that they might encounter, monetary or societal. They could face anything, so long as they were together.

But he had insisted. Driven by a primal need to provide for his wife as a true husband should, Henry pushed Edeva into accepting his decision. He now feared what harm his own selfish pride would bring his family.

The situation the colony now found itself in was dire and help was long overdue. Everyday the survivors of the settlement stood watch along the island's coast, praying to God to glimpse the sails of Governor White's majestic ship gracing the distant horizon, and everyday all their careful and sincere appeals went unanswered. Nutritional, filling food was growing ever increasingly hard to come by and to say that their relations with the Natives were strained was, frankly, putting the situation mildly. The mysterious disease had indeed weakened them, but it was their own distrust for one another, their own animosity for their neighbors that had damn near broken them.

And now Edeva was pregnant.

Burying the head of the ax solidly into the stump, Henry paused, sighing as he gazed at his handiwork. The evening that Edeva had told him of her expectancy was the most magical one of his life. Finally! At long last he would become a father, and their family would begin to grow! From the moment his eyes had first graced upon his new wife's ethereal beauty, Henry had longed for a baby, for a physical manifestation of their eternal love.

He had gotten his wish. Though it had taken some time, months more than Henry would have liked, Edeva was with child. But with the disastrous events unfolding within the colony, Henry dreaded what calamity might befall their burgeoning family.

Henry gripped the ax by the knob, the wood smooth and warm beneath his palm. _And it would be my fault._ Bracing a foot against the edge of the cutting block, he dislodged the ax with a jerk and a pull. _All my fault._

The padded footfalls of leather boots against the gravelly path sounded behind him. Henry turned, squinting against the glare of the sun at the approaching figure. "Doctor," he said by way of a weary greeting. He shifted his hold on the ax, clutching it around the shoulder for better balance as he stood facing the trim, finely dressed man before him. No matter their hardships, one could always count on the doctor to be smart and dapper.

Doctor Thomas Crowley smiled at him, a gesture that seemed more like a sneer below the black lenses of his sunshades. "Sturges," he said, coming to a halt several paces from the younger man. He wrinkled his nose, eyeing the film of embedded dirt upon Henry's sweat-slicked skin. "Working hard, are we?"

Self-conscious, Henry wiped a dirty sleeve across his right cheek, mopping the perspiration but further smearing the grime upon his face. "Spring may be arriving, but the nights are still cold." He waved a tired arm at the mess of freshly cut firewood. "In light of my wife's delicate condition, I do not wish for her to catch a chill. You understand, surely."

"Of course, and I commend you for caring for her so. It is a rare feature, and not a fashionable one in contemporary matches."

Henry peered at the man questioningly, unsure of the doctor's meaning. "I love Edeva. I would do anything for her. What another man does or does not do for his own wife is his business, not mine."

A corner of Crowley's mouth turned upward. "As it should be."

Narrowing his eyes, Henry turned back to his work, selecting yet another log and balancing it upon the stump. "Was there something that I could assist you with?" He swung the ax, halving the chunk of wood cleanly, effortlessly. "The night will be upon us soon, and I have much yet to do."

"Ananias has contracted the disease."

Henry froze as he began to reach for another bit of wood. Slowly he stood, straightening his back and letting the smooth handle of the ax slide through his fingers until the head came to rest upon the earth with a gentle thud.

"He took ill earlier this morning," Crowley explained to Henry's backside. "It came upon him rather quickly. I have him isolated within my cabin."

A death sentence, Henry automatically understood. In recent weeks, Crowley's own living quarters had been transformed into a makeshift hospital, equipped with multiple cots and what little medical instrumentation the camp could salvage from their meager supplies. Once a colonist began exhibiting symptoms of the sickness, he or she was quickly removed to Crowley's home, a tactic used more for censorship than out of concern for the health of the other colonists. Fear was already rife throughout the settlement and keeping away any unnecessary panic was of the utmost concern; the people did not need to witness the agonizing death of their neighbor.

With a breath, Henry braced himself. "What of Eleanor and little Virginia?"

There was a pause before Crowley spoke, a delay that set Henry's teeth on edge. "Both mother and child appear to be healthy. As far as I can ascertain, neither one of them are sick."

The blacksmith bowed his head, his shoulders dropping a bit in obvious relief. "Praise God," he whispered, his words barely audible above the cool wind.

"I was informed that your wife spent some time with Mrs. Dare yesterday. Most of the evening, in point of fact."

Facing the doctor once more, Henry bore an expression of quizzical concern. "That is correct."

Crowley's jaw stiffened and his lips pursed in agitation. "Has she shown any signs of sickness? Fatigue or irritability, perhaps?"

Henry's feet shifted upon the loose ground, his brow creasing as he thought. "Uh, no," he began, his eyes flicking back to the closed door of the cabin. "No, she has not."

"You do not sound too sure of yourself, Henry," said Crowley, with a tilt of his head. "Are you certain?"

"Yes, I am quite sure. My wife has been feeling the ill effects of her condition as of late, but nothing out of the ordinary."

The doctor hesitated, his black spectacles reflecting Henry's nervous image. Though he could not see Crowley's grey eyes, Henry swallowed thickly, uncomfortable under his intense gaze. Time began to stretch, Crowley as still as a rock and Henry as uneasy as the spring winds. Finally, to dispel the strange moment, Henry cleared his throat and motioned to the door behind him. "Edeva is sleeping at the moment. I would allow you to see her, otherwise."

The corners of Crowley's mouth turned into what Henry could only label as a frown. His anxiety deepened and, bewildered, Henry took a careful step backwards. Oddly, Crowley smiled at this, his amusement presenting itself within a hearty chuckle that left Henry feeling more baffled than before.

"Well," Crowley said, once he had recovered from his episode, "regardless, Edeva will surely take the news of Mr. Dare's illness harshly. May I trust you to keep a watchful eye upon her, Mr. Sturges?"

Henry's lips tightened and his brows were brought together in a severe curve. "Of course," he said slowly, the words almost a question upon his tongue.

Nodding his head, rather offhandedly, Crowley grinned again. "Very good." He turned, strolling into the intense late-afternoon rays of sunlight. "You enjoy your evening, Henry," he called over his shoulder. "You with your pleasant wife."

Only when the doctor was a good ten paces away, did Henry realize that he had once again taken hold of the ax.

**oOo**

"You _what_!?"

Henry grimaced, his face scrunching up at his wife's shrill words. "He is a doctor, Edeva," he began warily. "If you had been awake, I would have thought it best for him to have seen you."

Glowering at her husband, Edeva sat back into her chair, the steaming stew in front of her sitting unwanted and forgotten. "I do not wish for him to touch me, Henry."

"Nor would he have, Edeva."

"Nor do I wish for him to see me."

Pushing his bowl to the side, Henry took a deep, steadying breath. "Edeva, I think you are being a bit unreasonable."

"And I think that you are associating yourself with the Devil, Henry."

Henry paled at her foul insult. "To say such a thing is mutinous. Do not speak that way outside of this home."

Edeva leaned forward, a defiant gleam within her emerald eyes. "Do think it a coincidence that death circles him and yet he is left unscathed by its claws? He is complicit in all of this. He always was!" Her voice raised a notch, becoming almost a hiss. "He is a witch-doctor!"

"Enough, Edeva!"

Edeva closed her mouth, clenching her jaw so tightly that the muscles on the side of her face twitched. She stared at Henry a moment before gracefully, almost casually, she stood from the dinner table and walked to the fire. Halting before the roaring flames, Edeva slouched, keeping her back to her husband. "You never have believed me in this, Henry," she murmured, voice merging with the crackling of the blaze. "You never have taken my side."

"Because it is blasphemous. Thomas Crowley is of good standing. If we were still in England, your slander could bring the law down upon us."

"But we are not in England," Edeva whispered, "are we? We are in a foreign land with strange peoples, governed by even more mysterious natural decrees." She turned to face Henry and expression held not anger, but instead a deep sorrow. It was a look that bore defeat, which recognized loss. "Our old traditions no longer apply. We are on our own here, Henry. And we must make our own way." She paused, locking Henry with a steel gaze. "Keep our own families safe, no matter the penalties."

Henry gaped at his wife, muted horror registering in his eyes. Her words seemed to cut deep within his consciousness, driving far into his heart where his greatest fears lay naked and exposed. And Edeva knew this well.

"I am sleepy," she sighed, rubbing her temples tiredly. Edeva strode to the bedside, slipping her dress over her fine shoulders. "I will go to bed, now." She sank into the mattress, blowing out the candle that sat upon the rickety table beside the bed before pulling the colorful quilt up to her throat. "Goodnight, my dear husband."

**-O-**

Henry sat at the head of the dining table, the dancing flames from the cooking fire the only source of light within the darkened cabin. He was utterly motionless, considering Edeva's words as they ran through his mind again and again.

She had known precisely what to say, and how to voice it clearly enough to play to Henry's sense of gallantry. Or – and perhaps more likely – to his imagined list of faults, chastising him for failing to recognize a potential threat to his young family.

He had to give her credit, for it had worked exceedingly well.

There was something not quite right about Thomas Crowley. The man was off; there was no way around the fact. It was also true that he had a special way with the sick. Though he had not been able to cure the disease which ravaged their community, Crowley somehow understood the virus more than any other soul on the island. Though this could be explained away due to his profession, there were those within the settlement who wondered at his knowledge, at is uncanny ability to not only anticipate the virus's growth, but to remain untouched by it as well.

But were these oddities enough to damn the doctor?

Henry sighed, closing his eyes to the flickering firelight. Edeva was distressed, angry and saddened by the news of her best friend's husband falling ill just his very day. It was possible that this heartbreaking development, combined with her natural animosity for the doctor was what fed her earlier outburst. If this was in fact the case, her mood should return to normal after Ananias's death, after a proper period of mourning.

_But there is something odd about Crowley_, Henry mused, remembering the encounter he'd had with the doctor that afternoon. The revelation was not a recent development. Henry had sensed a strangeness about the man for some time now, though that peculiarity had never before set his teeth on edge quite like earlier. He felt a dual purpose to the doctor, an ulterior motive behind his statements and actions. What exactly that hidden drive was concealing, Henry could not be certain.

Finishing his drink, Henry stood, untying the laces which held his shirt securely to his shoulders. His mind was weary and his muscles felt rubbery and drained from some of his chores earlier in the day. The idea of sleep soothed him and the bed summoned his body like a siren. The mystery of the doctor could wait until the morning, when both he and his wife could discuss the matter more thoroughly and openly.

He lifted the quilt, gently lowering himself flush against the sleeping form there. Edeva moaned, sighing as her husband's heat warmed her backside and his arm cradled her bosom. Henry lay still for an endless moment, fighting off slumber for as long as he could in order to breathe deeply of the smell of her hair. The scent of honey caressed him and though he tried to resist, he soon found his consciousness falling into the calming void between the worlds.

That was precisely when a terrified scream punctured the night, causing Henry to sit up, instantly awake and alarmed.

**Author's Note:** Wow. I cannot tell you how hard this chapter was for me. I know I've said that before, but this chapter takes the cake. If the chapter feels jumpy and/or disjointed, that's because I changed my mind about five times what I was going to have happen in it. I'm not happy with it at all, and I even though about trashing it completely and jumping into what is going to turn out to be chapter 8. I convinced myself not to, because there _is_ a purpose to this chapter, believe it or not.

It is what it is. I barely edited it, so if there are mistakes, I apologize. I was just so tired of it, bored with it, I rushed getting it done so that I could post it and move on to chapter 8. I have the chapters 8 and 9 already planned out and believe me, I'm chomping at the bit to get them started. I _**promise **_you, you will not have to wait another 3 months for an update.

I want to thank all of you who have left all those wonderful reviews for me. You know who you are :) Please keep them coming, because you have absolutely no idea how much they inspire me. Thank you!

Abery fluff coming soon! ;)

One more thing: please note the change in the trigger warnings and pairings above.

Till next time we meet.


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